


Supernatural Blood

by Elpin



Category: Supernatural, True Blood
Genre: Action, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood Drinking, Crossover Pairings, Demon Blood Addiction, Episode Related, Episode s04e02, Fangbanging, Feelings of shame over being a fangbanger, First Time, M/M, Protective Eric, Romance, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sam and Eric are the same height, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-17 12:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 74,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2309072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elpin/pseuds/Elpin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean split up while hunting in a vampire county down in Louisiana. Sam ends up getting help from the local "Sheriff" to find his brother. This changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

'Dammit, Sam, where the hell are you?' Dean did not like being this deep in vampire territory alone. Not that he would ever admit it anyone, but these days hunters did best to stay away from vamp-counties, as they were known. It was a stand-off, really, and vamps liked to congregate around their hangouts. For some reason these parts of the South were a perfect habitat for them.

Dean grimaced when he saw a church with a sign by the road proclaiming "God Hates Fangs." What he wouldn't give to have that "n" gone. Bigotry the world could always handle. People knowing about vampires? Dean didn't think either side would survive.

He knew splitting up had been a bad idea, even for a salt-and-burn. Sam was suppose to get the girl back home while Dean did his pyro-thing.

The motel room had been empty when he got back, however. Sam's phone was off. Dean decided to do the classy thing and not panic right away. He went back to the bar they had stopped at on their way to the job.

"Merlotte's" sounded more classier than it looked. That was all right with Dean.

The place was packed compared to the last time he had been in there; it looked like the place to be on Friday nights for the locals. Dean glanced around, failed to see Sam, and headed for the bar. He noted there was a petite blonde waiting on tables, while a feisty-looking black woman tended the bar. The fake redhead from before was gone.

'Hey,' he greeted, bringing out a photo of Sam for just this sort of occasion. 'I was wondering if you'd seen my brother in here tonight?' He held up the photo. She was nice enough to stop working for half a second. He figured she was going to brush him off, but then she did a double-take and studied the photo for real.

'Yeah, actually, I think I did. Real tall guy, right?'

'That'd be him.' Dean tried to tell his heart to calm the fuck down. It wasn't a lead yet if she couldn't tell him where Sam had gone.

'Yeah, I saw him alright,' she said, her voice showing disdain. Dean frowned. Sam didn't usually elicit that kind of reaction. 'He was talking to a vamp. Sounded like they were headed over to Fangtasia afterwards.'

'Fangtasia?' Seriously? Dean wanted to add. Man, he hated life post-Revelation. Why couldn't those damn vampires just stay hidden? Being out and about screwed with the whole system: Supernatural on one side, normal on the other. And with names like Fangtasia? If you were a hunter the world had gone from manageable-evil-crazy to Wonderland-crazy overnight.

'Yeah, it's a vamp club in Shreveport,' she said. She sighed suddenly and put down the glass she had been filling. 'You said he was your brother?' Dean nodded. 'Well, no offence, but they looked real cosy. I thought he was a fangbanger.' Dean swallowed hard at the word. Of all the fucked-up shit that came out of the not-so-Great Revelation, fangbangers were definitely the most fucked up.

'See, that's not possible,' Dean said with a shake of the head. Before she had a chance to argue he continued, 'just give me the directions, please?'

He hit the road not a minute later. If some vamp had gotten his hands on Sam then the so-called unofficial ceasefire was shot to hell, according to him. It didn't matter if the vamps were supposedly only drinking True Blood; Dean was a goddamned hunter, and he was gonna hunt some vamps tonight.

The sign outside said "Fangtasia," but it looked like a warehouse. A big hulk stood guard, probably a vamp. Dean had to play it cool. They were probably going to check for weapons. The goon was probably trained to spot hunters trying their luck. Dean hated it with a passion, but he was going to have to go in naked.

He tried to look like the other youths catching some fresh air around the door; someone eager to try to get a vamp to suck his face, and other parts. He shuddered at the thought.

The doorman asked for ID, surprisingly. He looked Dean up and down.

'Aren't you a pretty one,' he grumbled. Dean tried to look flattered, but it might have come out as constipated. In any case the man waved him inside.

The inside of the bar looked like a cross between a biker hangout and a strip-joint. Dean couldn't make up his mind if he really, really liked it or really, really hated it. Ignoring the very uncomfortable stares from vamps and humans alike, he made his way further inside, scanning every shadow and corner, looking for a mop of hair sticking out above the crowd.

No luck yet. Dean was feeling the looks keenly. He was just about to give up when a tall and pale vampette blocked his way.

'You look like you're looking for someone,' she purred. She was dirty-blonde and felt old. Dean had been around vamps enough to know the difference between the newly hatched covens that they used to clean out regularly, and these world-weary ones that had managed to stay clear of hunters before the Revelation.

'No one in particular,' he replied, giving a smile and looking her up and down for show. Man, she was built fine, for a vamp, but he dreaded that knowing look in her eyes. 'But I was just about to get some air so if you'll excuse me.'

'Come with me,' she said. Shit, Dean's fight or flight instincts were screaming to get the fuck out. He was a hunter in the middle of a nest. But they played by the rules now, at least on paper, so maybe if he stayed calm they wouldn't bother covering up a murder. She turned her back to him, a show of strength, and walked away. He knew he could do nothing but follow.

They arrived at some sort of stage with a throne on it. A vamp, a proper old fucker, sat artfully slouched in it. He was pale and blond with eyes that seem to bore into Dean. The hunter forced himself to unclench his jaw.

'I don't like hunters in my establishment,' the vamp said. The vampette disappeared off somewhere, leaving Dean in front of the throne alone like some prisoner about to be sentenced.

'I don't want any trouble,' he said, opening his palms to the vamp briefly. He kept his arms away from his body to appear non-threatening. The situation could deteriorate very quickly if tempers rose. Dean had heard about a massacre in Mississippi somewhere when hunters had stormed a vamp-club. They had killed the fangbangers too, and much as Dean thought they were pretty fucked up to want to bang a vamp, they had still been innocent humans.

'Then what are you looking for?'

'My brother, Sam. Real tall, brown hair, puppy-dog eyes.' He indicated Sam's height, keeping his eyes on the vamp for any signs on recognition. If the vamp had Sam hidden somewhere then another massacre was going to take place before the night was out.

'Is your brother a hunter?'

'Yeah,' Dean knew it was pointless to lie.

'Then why do you think he would be here?'

'Honestly, I think one of you fuckers got to him and dragged his ass here,' Dean spat out before he could stop himself. He was tired of feeling on edge and he wanted Sam and him out of this redneck town before he killed something. 'But I don't know. All I do know is that someone saw him talking to a vamp at Merlotte's over in Bontemps and that they might have come here. I just want to find him and get the hell out, I swear.' The vamp smiled. He would have been a fairly handsome man if not for the freakishly pale skin and blood-shot eyes. He looked kinda nordic, definitely too old to be local.

Dean fell silent, wondering if he'd just let his mouth get him into more trouble than he could handle. The vamp had a small smile on his face, but it wasn't malicious. It was almost admiring, and that was actually freaking Dean out a hell of a lot more. He was about to open his mouth and demand answers when the vamp finally spoke.

'What's your name?' Dean hesitated before mentally conceding that it was pointless not to give it.

'Dean,' he bit out.

'Well, Dean, I am afraid I haven't seen your Sam. I don't usually just let hunters waltz in and out of my establishment, but in your case I am going to make an exception.' Dean tried not to let his relieved release of breath show, but he saw the smirk on the vamp and knew he'd been caught. God, he hated these bastards.

'Gee, thanks,' he replied, pointlessly.

'You're welcome,' the vamp replied with feigned courtesy. 'I hope we cross paths again, Dean.' Without waiting for another sign of dismissal – like Dean was going to wait on a vamp to dismiss him – he turned and stalked out with as much of his pride as he could muster. Once outside in the fresh air he hurried to the Impala, grateful to be out of the blood stench. True Blood or real blood, it still smelled of vamps sucking on anything alive.

He got in the car and slammed the door. He almost turned the key before he stopped short and tried to clear his head. Now what? Either the vamp was lying, which was entirely possible, or Sam really hadn't been tricked into coming here. Maybe he should wait for daylight and try to break in? He could knock out the human guards – they deserved it anyway for guarding those creeps – and check the basement. Dean was fairly certain the place had a basement. No vampire haunt would be complete without one.

He was just about to turn the key and pretend to drive off when the door was pulled open and a supernaturally strong arm reached in and pulled him out. He was slammed against the side of the car. It felt like his spine was gonna snap across the hood.

'I smell hunter,' a voice whispered. He got a fist in his face, his head snapping so hard to the side he was sure he got whiplash too.

Dean knew they shouldn't have split up in the middle of a vamp-county.

He didn't get to regret it much longer as he lost consciousness with another blow.

XXX

Sam was annoyed at Dean, which was nothing knew, but when they were this far gone into vampire-infested places it wasn't as easily ignored.

Not that vampires these days were all killing humans. Sam had to admit, most of them seemed like normal people now that they could quell their thirst with True Blood. It meant one less species to hunt, but it also created a hell of a lot of tension between hunters and their former game.

Sam knew there were old vampires who just used True Blood as a cover for much more nefarious purposes, but after the Great Revelation it wasn't their job anymore. It was the police and IRS' job to sort them out. Still, you didn't push your luck around these parts, and you didn't advertise that you were a hunter.

Apparently, you didn't advertise that you were a vamp always either. The girl they had rescued from a vengeful spirit turned out to be one herself. She had a nasty cut on her arm so she had let Sam drive the car. He had wanted to stop so he could look at it, but she told him to stop at the bar they passed so she could get a True Blood. She was thirsty, she said.

Sam had tried not to freak out. She seemed perfectly normal. She even met a couple of friends at the bar, all sitting and drinking True Blood. Sam hadn't really felt inclined to insult them, so he let her buy him a drink and tell the others that he had saved her from her annoying dead grandmother.

On the way back to the motel (the vamps had disappeared off to a club of some sort) Sam realised his phone wasn't working. It must have been damaged when he fell while fighting off the spirit, or maybe the batteries were dead.

The motel was empty. He figured Dean might be taking his time covering the grave again, or maybe the jerk had gone to a bar. He hadn't seen him at Merlotte's though, and it was getting pretty late. How long had it taken him to walk back? Sam borrowed the phone in the reception. Dean's phone rang for ages before it got picked up, only it wasn't Dean. Sam knew it instantly; the breathing was off. After a beat of silence a voice spoke teasingly.

'If you're looking for your hunting buddy he's all tied up at the moment.' Sam willed himself calm.

'Where is he? What do you want?' Sam knew it was pointless to hope they wanted anything else than to slowly drain Dean and then kill him.

'We're having a party,' the voice said. 'And your pal here was nice enough to bring the drinks.' Sam heard mocking laughter in the background. He closed his eyes and punched the wall in frustration.

'Where are you?'

'I think one hunter is enough for tonight. Maybe you can come by tomorrow.' The phone went dead and Sam felt his knees go weak. Shit, this was bad. They had gotten out of bad before, but this was different. The vampires were going to kill Dean slowly, just because of what he was, and Sam didn't even know where to start looking.

Then he remembered the vampire club they had been talking about at the bar. Fangtasia, wasn't it? If Sam could get there before sun-up and ask around maybe one of the vamps would talk to him? He knew not all of them were killers, like the girl he had saved. Admittedly, she hadn't needed as much saving as they had thought, but she hadn't known shit about getting rid of vengeful spirits. Maybe she was there and knew who to ask.

Sam knew he would have to leave his weapons behind, but kept a knife in his boot just in case. The guy in the motel reception knew the club and gave him directions. He stole the first car he saw in the parking lot and drove like a bat out of hell to Fangtasia.

XXX

The club was cheesy as hell. Sam could barely contain rolling his eyes. He tried to look inconspicuous, but his damn height, as usual, was making that difficult. People were mostly too drunk or too high to notice him, though. He looked around for the girl, but the place was so dark he doubted he would be able to find her. He continued to scan the crowd, hoping.

He stopped short when his eyes landed on a vampire sitting alone on a raised dais. It looked like a VIP seating area, with the main chair definitely reminiscent of a throne. The vampire was slouched in it, looking bored. He was... really good looking. Sam swallowed. He would never, ever tell Dean that he sometimes found vampiric paleness attractive. He wasn't a fangbanger or anything, but he could appreciate their ethereal qualities without feeling guilty, most of the time.

This vampire, however, looked regal on top of everything else. He was an old one, that was obvious. Sam didn't like to think about old vampires. It made the history-geek in him itch. He wanted to question them, to learn how they had survived the centuries. It was too fascinating to ignore.

He was moving through the crowd towards the vamp before he could stop himself. This one looked like he owned the place, and probably did, so maybe he knew which vampires were more likely to kidnap a hunter. When the vamp finally looked towards Sam and spotted him, Sam kept his face a mask. Which way was the best to play this? He went for straight-forward.

'You the boss around here?' he asked when he stood in front of the dais. The slouched vampire hadn't moved, but Sam noted he had tensed.

'Who wants to know?'

'I'm Sam Winchester, and I'm looking for my brother.'

'You're a hunter,' the vamp said. Sam kept his posture. He couldn't help but be a little impressed though.

'How did you know?' The vamp smiled. It was a very handsome smile, but Sam really didn't have time to think about that now. Focus, Sammy, he heard Dean say in his head.

'Your walk,' the vamp said. 'We don't like hunters in here. I would ask you to leave. Now.'

Shit, Sam thought. The vamp looked away pointedly, seeming to be more interested in the mindless crowd. Since he couldn't just leave without trying, Sam stepped up on the dais. It was his go-to intimidation technique and although he knew in his mind that it wouldn't work on a old vampire no matter how short the guy was, his body didn't seem to have gotten the memo.

'I need to find my brother. A gang of vampires kidnapped him and they're going to drain him, kill him and dump his body somewhere. Maybe even somewhere close to this place? A murdered hunter isn't exactly the sort of thing you want around this law-abiding establishment is it?' Sam stared down at the vampire, knowing he might be killed for his trouble if this was the kind of vampire who didn't give a shit about being law-abiding. The vampire stared up at him with eyes that seemed both incredibly alive and dead at the same time. Sam almost mistook it for passion, if he didn't know better. Old vamps like this were rumoured to be zombie-like. Hunters liked to think of them as the cold-hearted businessmen of the vampire-world.

Slowly, the vampire placed his hands on the throne's armrests. He pushed himself up and Sam made a point of not stepping back. The closer he was the more his height was an advantage. He was surprised, shocked actually, when the vampire straightened and looked Sam straight in the eye.

They were almost the exact same height. Sam knew his surprise must have shown on his face because the vampire smiled again. Not a cruel or mocking smile, but a pleased smile, as if he too had missed being able to look someone in the eye.

'Well, Sam Winchester,' he said. 'My name is Eric and I am a law-abiding vampire, actually. What proof do you have that your brother was kidnapped?'

'I called his cell and a vamp picked up. He said they were going to have a party and that my brother was going to be the drink.' Sam tried not to lose focus as he was staring into those supernatural eyes. Eric seemed to be finding something interesting to stare at in Sam's eyes too.

'You and your brother are not like other hunters,' the vamp said.

'You've seen him?' Sam asked urgently. 'When? Was he with someone?'

'He was looking for you actually,' Eric said. He finally stepped back and to the side, indicating someone over. Sam watched a pretty girl vampire come over, also old. Eric whispered something in her ear. She looked skeptical, but shrugged in defeat and sauntered off. Eric turned back to Sam, who was waiting impatiently.

'Do you know where he is?'

'I may have an inkling,' he answered cryptically and Sam sighed in frustration. 'Come with me, we do not have much time.'

Jesus, what was he doing? Sam asked himself as he followed Eric outside. He was getting help from a vampire. Eric asked which car Sam had come in and Sam pointed to the rusty heap he had stolen.

'Do you have a weapon?' Eric asked as they approached a car.

'I have a knife,' Sam admitted. Eric opened the door and got in. Sam did the same on the passenger side.

'Then I suggest you stay out of my way,' Eric said as they drove off at high speed.

'Why are you helping me?' Sam asked, even though he knew it probably wasn't a good idea to point out the vampire's unusual actions.

'Because I have no interest in bringing both the police and a bunch of hunters down on my jurisdiction. We're trying to keep the peace around here.'

'Your jurisdiction?'

'Yes, I am the sheriff.' Sam tried not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of vampires being organised to that extent, but it sort of made sense. That's how they managed to so quickly distribute True Blood and get used to the Great Revelation. They just brought everything out in the open. For a split second Sam actually admired their ingenuity.

'You know who's taken Dean?'

'A bunch of idiotic new-borns rolled into town a few nights ago. I knew they were trouble. We don't like vampires without masters or pasts. There are vampires who live outside of our communities. They're usually the ones who get themselves killed my hunters, so it would stand to reason they're also the ones who like to take out a little vengeance.' Sam swallowed heavily at the thought of the vengeance the vampires were putting Dean through.

'Is it far?'

'They're hold up in an old barn. New-borns have so little imagination.' Sam couldn't help the tiny smile Eric's almost disappointed tone produced. The vampire looked over to see Sam's reaction and added in a more serious tone, 'You focus on getting your brother. I'll take care of the vampires.'

'Okay... thank you.' Eric locked eyes with him and Sam was pretty sure they would have driven off the road if not for the vampire's supernatural abilities at multitasking.

'You're welcome,' he whispered before turning back to the road and taking a sharp turn onto a dirt path.

The barn lay abandoned on the edge of an overgrown field. They could see flickering lights within and even hear laughter, bottles breaking and music; all the typical sounds of a party. They parked a good way off and approached silently. Sam had his knife out, though it felt woefully inadequate in his hand.

A scream cut through all other noise and Sam's heartbeat went up to battle-mode. That was Dean, and he was in pain. They were almost at the barn door now.

'I'll go around back,' Eric whispered right in Sam's ear. 'Wait until I have them distracted and then get your brother. Get back in the car and drive. Don't look back.' Sam only intended to glance at the vampire in an "are you sure" fashion, but ended up being practically nose-to-nose with the guy. Sam swallowed and Eric smiled. Then he was gone, faster than Sam could blink. He refocused on the door and crept closer, looking through the spaces between the old wood.

Dean was tied to a chair in the middle of the room. His jacket was gone and the t-shirt he had been wearing that morning was in tatters. Sam could see bite marks all over his neck and chest. He was breathing heavily, gritting his teeth. The vampires laughed and danced to music coming from an iPod hooked up to speakers.

'I'll kill you sons' of bitches,' Dean growled when one vampire approached, clearly intending to take another drink.

'Sure you will, little hunter,' the vamp laughed. There were four of them as far as Sam could count, though the girl-vamp lay passed out in a pile of hay. Another vamp was leaning over her, kissing her neck. The fourth one was dancing, smiling with a blood-stained mouth. Sam tightened his hold on the knife.

Suddenly, the far wall was kicked through, rousing the sleeping girl and calling everyone's attention. Eric appeared in the man-sized hole. He looked, in a word, terrifying. Sam now knew without a doubt that the vampire had never wanted to kill him because that look was obviously reserved for others.

The vampire by Dean hissed like a cat and sprang at Eric. The two fell backwards out into the night. The others were at first unsure of what to do, but then all three of them jumped out after the pair. Sam made his move.

Dean didn't even notice Sam had arrived until he was cutting the ropes.

'Sam, thank god,' Dean muttered. 'Get me out.'

'Working on it.' The rope broke and Dean got the other arm while Sam did the legs. He helped his brother stand. The blood-loss must have been severe because Dean didn't even pretend he could manage on his own. 'Quick,' he muttered. Sam was worried he was losing consciousness.

They got to the car without trouble and Sam drove off. He glanced in the rear-view mirror more than once. It felt wrong to leave Eric, even if he was just a vampire. Sam hoped he would be okay. He was clearly old and powerful. He had moved faster than Sam could see. Surely he could handle four baby-vamps? He glanced at Dean when heard a groan.

'I think we need a hospital,' he said.

'No, no, I'm okay,' Dean said. He sounded stronger, but that could be faked.

'You've lost a lot of blood, dude.'

'Nah, not that much. It's just a bunch of cuts, but they aren't deep. They only took a few mouthfuls each.'

'You sure?'

'Yeah,' Dean sighed. 'Just get me some bandages and a drink.' Sam decided he would ignore the last part. 'How did you find me?'

'I didn't...' Sam said.

'Tell me in the morning,' Dean muttered.

XXX

Morning came and went with both of them passed out. Sam had tended Dean's wounds, very glad to see that he hadn't suffered too much blood-loss. They had been awake the whole night, so it was no wonder both of them shut down and slept through the day.

Sam was awakened by a knock on the door. He thought it was probably the receptionist wanting more money. He didn't even realise the time, or perhaps he was too groggy to think clearly. He opened the door wider than he should have.

'Eric,' the name came out in a hitched breath. Sam's mind clicked on. 'You're okay.'

'Yes,' Eric answered. He had that smile on him. Sam blushed at his own comment. He sounded idiotic.

'I mean, I'm glad you're okay. Thank you.'

'I'm glad you are okay as well,' Eric replied. Sam's face heated up even more. He hoped Dean was still asleep, but didn't want to turn and look and bring Eric's attention to him. He leaned on the door frame, closing the door a bit so that his body filled up the opening, blocking the room. 'The vampires won't be bothering you again.'

'You killed them?' Sam asked. Eric nodded. Sam wasn't entirely sure how he was suppose to feel about that. He was glad they were dead of course, but it forced him to think of Eric as a killer. A killer of his own kind.

'Despite the Great Revelation,' Eric said quietly, 'these matters are best settled in house, so to speak.'

'Yeah,' Sam agreed.

'Is your brother all right?'

'Yeah, he's...' Sam couldn't help but glance behind him. Dean was sound asleep. His chest was covered in band-aids and bandages for the more serious bites. 'Fine.'

'Then I will leave you.' Eric turned to leave and Sam's stomach did a weird flip, like he had dropped something off a high cliff and realised he wouldn't get it back.

'Wait,' he said. Eric stopped and looked back with a raised eyebrow. Sam floundered. 'I...' Abruptly, Eric stepped closer. So close Sam's eyes went wide and he held his breath. Eric placed one hand on the door frame and then reached for Sam's face with the other. Maybe he was being glamoured, but it didn't really feel like that. 

Eric's hand cupped his cheek. His eyes were intense, alive and searching. Not dead at all, really. In fact the look was almost sweet. Sam stood still and allowed Eric to lean in.

The kiss was much softer than Sam had anticipated. He had never kissed a vampire, so he didn't really know what to expect, but this wasn't it. His eyes slid shut and he pressed back. Eric tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Sam's mind spun. This was nice and sort of tingly. Like when he had first kissed Jess.

'Sam?' a groggy voice sounded from the bed.

The next second Sam was staring at the empty night, his lips still half-puckered.

'Sam, what are you doing?'

He shut the door quickly.

'Nothing. Just thought I heard something.'


	2. Chapter 2

'You're telling me a vampire saved us?'

'Saved you,' Sam felt the need to correct for some reason. 'Well, helped me save you.' Dean shook his head. He was propped up in bed, eating a greasy cheeseburger. Sam had insisted on Dean eating before they got in the car again.

'He probably just didn't want to deal with hunters or cops asking around if I turned up dead.'

'He could have easily just let them kill you and make sure they buried you,' Sam argued. He kept his eyes on the TV, even though there was just some stupid reality show on.

'Yeah, I guess,' Dean admitted, chewing. 'But he probably figured he'd get a bunch of hunters on the trail eventually.'

'He seemed nice,' Sam murmured before he could stop himself. He closed his eyes the moment he said it, and winced at the answering silence behind him.

'Nice?' Dean blurted incredulously. 'What, he said please before he tried to suck your blood?' Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, but studiously kept his back to Dean. He bit his lip to stop himself for saying more. It didn't matter what Dean thought about Eric, or vampires in general. They would hit the road soon and Fangtasia would be out of sight and mind. Besides, there was no changing Dean's mind about vampires. Sure, he wouldn't bust up a coven that stayed off human blood, but that didn't mean he was going to have a nice chat with any of them, or approve of Sam kissing one.

Damn, Sam's face heated up just thinking about it. His analytic mind had supplied a long list of reasons why he was affected so much. Eric's vampire charm was at the top, obviously. His fascinating age. His looks- shit, his _look_ , with those eyes. Sam shifted on the bed, hoping Dean wasn't paying attention to him.

Then there was his height. The very act of kissing someone on an even footing made Sam feel both in control and out of it. He couldn't stop thinking about pushing Eric back hard against a wall, and then Eric pushing right back. He would be stronger, of course, but Sam was strangely fine with that.

'Dude, are you even listening to me?' Dean's voice suddenly cut through Sam's very inappropriate fantasy.

'Sorry, what?'

'Let's just get out of here.' Dean got up and stretched, clearly trying to cover up his wince. They packed up quick, paid for the extra night, and hit the road. They passed Merlotte's on the way out of town. Sam knew they weren't going to pass through Shreveport. They had already lined up a possible hunt after this one, so Sam knew which direction to take. They listened to music for maybe ten minutes before Sam heard his mouth run away with him again.

'Eric came to check that we were okay.'

'What?' Dean clearly hadn't heard him, so it was a perfect opportunity for Sam to make something else up. Sometimes, though, even Sam could be incredibly stupid.

'Eric, the vampire that saved you, he came by earlier to check that we had gotten back in one piece.' Silence met this statement until Sam had to glance over at Dean, who was giving him the "what the fuck" stare big time.

'Seriously, dude, you're on first name basis with a vamp?' Sam sighed. He knew it had been a stupid idea. It hadn't even been an idea; a stupid impulse if anything.

'Look, I'm just saying-'

'No, you're not saying anything Sam. We're getting the hell out of here and we're staying far away from vamp-counties from now on.' Sam clamped his mouth shut. He didn't want to argue about this. It was pointless. He sped up instead and they drove the rest of the night in silence.

XXX

Sam shouldn't be awake. They had driven all night and checked out leads all day. He should be dead tired. Dean was out cold, but Sam couldn't sleep. They were still in the same state, but they were pretty sure there weren't any vampire haunts around. The town, if Sam's research was correct, had a spirit attacking people in the local hospital. They couldn't do anything more today, but they planned to hit the library tomorrow morning.

Sam should be asleep, yet here he was outside, slowly breathing in the night to calm himself, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Why was that kiss still stuck in his head?

He decided to go for a walk to clear his head, get himself tired out. He walked down the rows of motel room doors. The parking lot held only a handful of cars, and the street beyond was deserted. They were a little way outside the town proper so the place was pretty much surrounded by dense vegetation. Sam turned the corner at the end of the motel and walked behind it. It was darker there without the lights by each door guiding his way, but there was still enough light pollution reflected in the clouds for him to be able to see fairly well into the forest. There was also light from one of the tiny bathroom windows. He couldn't tell if it was their room though, and didn't really think about it.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Sam knew not to doubt his instincts so he stopped dead and glanced around, listening. There was nothing to indicate a danger. There was no strange silence, or ominous footsteps. There was just him standing behind a motel, squinting into the night. He sighed, trying to calm his nerves and his sudden strange excitement.

He turned to walk back the way he came, and almost walked straight into a body. His first instinct was to put up his hands for a fight, but by the time they were raised his brain had managed to catch up and tell him who it was.

'Jesus Christ,' he spat, backing away, hating the way his heart had jumped and was still racing. Eric merely lifted a curious eyebrow at him. 'You scared the shit out of me.'

'Good,' Eric said. Sam tilted his head in confusion. 'You're a good hunter. You knew I was there. Not many do.'

'Thanks, I think.' Sam was suddenly aware of the fact that Eric was there. Right there. He swallowed. 'How'd you get here?'

'You don't think I'm faster than that old car of yours?' Eric asked sarcastically.

'I mean why are you here?' Sam forced himself to ask.

Like before, Eric moved faster than Sam could blink. He pushed Sam up against the wall, pinning his arms down and bringing them chest to chest. Sam hated the fact that he didn't even have the chance to fight back, but he was also mildly disturbed at himself for not being terrified. Not disturbed enough to make his _other_ reaction go away.

'Why do you want me to be here?' Eric asked, eyes intense and searching. Sam pressed his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as Eric increased the pressure on his chest and arms.

'What are you talking about? Are you using your powers on me?' The question made everything go still and cold. Eric was six feet away from him in a second, leaving him leaning up against the wall alone. Sam stared, hoping he didn't look quite as pathetic as he feared.

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' Eric stated. 'An excuse, an explanation. You can't stand the possibility that a hunter might actually desire a vampire.' Sam looked away, unable to stand that knowing look, or the all too true words.

'You're glamouring me,' Sam said, but it sounded weak even to his ears.

'You're too good a hunter for that,' Eric said. He was moving closer again, very slowly, as if afraid to startle a wild animal. 'Why do you want me to be here, Sam?'

'I don't. You came here. Why are you here?' Sam forced his eyes back on the vamp. Eric was smiling.

'I'm here because you want me to be. Why?'

'Are you reading my mind?'

'I don't need to be a mind reader to know what you really want.' He was close again, but he wasn't touching, not yet. Sam had kept completely still all the while, as if Eric still had a hold of his arms. He should move, walk away, but he wasn't doing anything. 'Tell me.'

'What do you want?' Sam shot back, annoyed at the knowing looks. He wasn't used to being so completely one-upped in a conversation. Fights he could stand to lose - sometimes the things they were fighting were just too strong - but he liked to think of himself as the smart brother. He was used to winning arguments and being able to out-wit people. Eric was confusing him with his mere presence.

Eric leaned in close, his lips a breath away and Sam's own breath stilled completely.

'You.'

And they were kissing again, only it didn't start out soft and sweet like before. It was painful. This was how vampires kiss, Sam thought, as he kissed back as hard as he could. Had he been a vampire himself he was sure it would have been closer to fighting that kissing.

He grabbed Eric's head and felt slightly better. It felt like he had some control. Eric wrapped his arms around Sam, allowing the human to set the pace. Eric's hair was soft and Sam devoured the vamp's lips as if he was the one with some supernatural thirst.

God, it felt good. Sam didn't think he'd tasted anything better. There was the sting of blood on occasion, and Sam didn't want to think about whether it was True Blood or real blood. One thing he did want to think about, strangely enough, was all the people Eric had kissed before him. How old was he exactly? Had he had time to kiss a hundred people? A thousand? The thought shuddered through Sam. He felt like a boy kissing someone older, desperate to not make a stupid mistake. His stomach was doing silly summersaults for Christ's sake.

Eric growled and pressed them harder into the wall, grinding against Sam.

'Fuck,' Sam managed to breathe when he had to pull away to gasp for air for a moment. Eric didn't need to breathe, though, and kissed his way across Sam's jaw to his ear and then downwards.

Sam tensed- he couldn't help it. Eric kissed his neck as any human would, though not many people had kissed Sam's neck like that. He loved it when people did, though, maybe because it wasn't something he got often.

The big question was, did he tense out of fear, or anticipation?

Eric licked a stripe right across his neck and Sam couldn't help the low moan that escaped. Eric must have taken that as some sort of permission, because in the next moment he had breached Sam's skin.

Instead of the instant pain and feeling of being viciously drained of life, Sam's world tunneled to the sensation of being devoured, but not in an unappealing way. It was like being cherished and consumed; being taken care of and used at the same time. Being kept alive yet being, essentially, drained. It was a paradox of sensations, but it all added up to his conscious mind melting away.

He barely noticed still grinding hard against Eric through it all. He couldn't ignore his sudden release, though, when Eric gave one last lick across the wound, closing it up. Sam cried out, the sound tapering off to a whimper as he was spent. The vampire pressed his forehead against Sam's shoulder, holding them still as everything came to a halt.

Sam swallowed several times, working his throat as if expecting something to be wrong with it. He blinked, clearing his vision. His mind was the last thing to switch itself back on.

What the hell had he just done? Kissing was one thing, but allowing- no, enjoying it. He instinctively pushed against Eric, who stepped away immediately. His face was inscrutable. Sam tried to calm his re-quickening heart, but the more he tried to calm himself, the less calm he became.

'You-...' He didn't know what he was going to accuse the vampire of. He had allowed it, he had wanted it, and they both knew it. They stared at one another.

'Don't worry,' Eric said. 'I will always be able to find you now.' Before Sam could protest, or get even more angry, Eric was gone. The night was quiet except for Sam's labored breathing. He stared out into the darkness, willing back the last few moments of his life desperately, and also wishing for Eric to return.

The only reason he eventually moved was because he felt cold, and a little wet in uncomfortable places. He walked back to the motel room in a daze.

His last thought before he hit the pillow was his brother's angry face if he ever found out his brother had just become a fangbanger.

XXX

'Dean!' Sam only managed to shout his brother's name before he was tackled from the side with what felt like the force of a linebacker.

He twisted towards it as he fell, and pushed against the creature. Using the momentum of his fall, he managed to flip the creature over him. It went right through the thin wall of the hundred-year-old shack.

They had figured it was a "Waheela", but they hadn't considered a mating pair. The bipedal bear creatures with wolf-like heads were farther south than their usual territories, but they could still rip your throat out.

Sam pushed himself up and looked out the hole. The Waheela was gone. Sam didn't have time to jump out and chase it down. He got up and went after Dean instead. The small shack consisted of only two rooms so when Sam burst through the door he expected to find his brother.

He found a dead Waheela, face down on the floor. It was covered in thick fur, full of dirt, twigs and blood. Without the snout in view it looked almost like Bigfoot.

'Dean!' Sam cried. He took two long steps to the small window, which was broken. Outside the forest lay still, the tall trees menacing-looking, casting deep shadows in the moonlight. They were far from the road. It was hard to guess how long the hunt had gone on, but sunrise couldn't be far off.

'Ugh,' a groan sounded, from within the room. Sam spun around.

'Dean?' Another groan and Sam realised it was coming from the floor. He also realised he had dropped his gun when the other Waheela tackled him. He still had his knife, though. The creatures could be wounded with silver bullets, but unlike werewolves they needed to be beheaded to stay dead. Sam approached cautiously.

'Sam.'

He stopped short. The creature started to stir. It rolled over slowly, but too stiffly to be natural, revealing his stupid brother gasping for breath underneath. The Waheela had three bullet holes in its skull, which would take it quite some time to heal.

'Dean,' Sam put his knife away and helped his brother up. 'You okay?'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' Dean shook off the help. 'Where's the other one?'

'I don't know. It fell through the wall, but it's gone now.'

'Damn. Okay, let's cut this sucker's head off quick and then head out.' Sam nodded and retrieved his gun quickly while Dean did the dirty work. They would drag it out into the forest and let the non-supernatural animals digest it later.

Outside the forest seemed to watch them. There was little underbrush so they could see quite far in all directions. They circled the shack, looking for clues.

'Over here,' Dean said. They were right outside the hole. He indicated blood on a tree. They followed the trail silently, keeping watch. It was getting lighter by the minute, though they had started the hunt around midnight, when the creatures were usually active.

They descended a rather steep hill and pushed through some smaller trees. Sam could hear a stream nearby. That was were they found it.

It looked like something had ripped its head off. They checked the body and found no other wounds. Its claws were bloody, though, and not from the Winchesters.

'What the hell, man?' Dean said, standing and giving the creature a little kick of frustration. He looked around them. They could see broken branches and blood splatter everywhere. There had definitely been a struggle, but with what? 'What the hell can kill a Waheela out here?'

'Another Waheela?' Sam suggested.

'Then why isn't it here snacking on his friend or us?'

'I don't know,' Sam sighed. The sun was coming up any second and he felt off, like something was creeping up behind him. 'Let's just get the hell out of here.'

'If there's something strong enough to kill a fucking wolf-bear out here then we need to catch it.'

They circled around the sight, but the trail went cold almost immediately. They couldn't tell what it was. It wasn't as if they could take blood samples. They decided to leave the creature in the forest and return the next night to keep watch. It had probably run off because the sun was coming up. Waheelas liked to stay underground during the day. Maybe it was wounded and hadn't been able to drag it back. Hell, maybe there was a whole pack of them out there, or two groups fighting. Sam didn't want to think about the damage the creatures could do if they decided to keep snacking on the local town. Nothing they had observed so far indicated more than a pair at most, however, so what was this thing?

It was pointless to speculate anymore, and there was no trail, so they left.

They went back to town and ate a very late breakfast at the local family bar and restaurant. Afterwards they crashed at the motel and slept for hours.

Sam woke up slowly, which in itself was unusual. He didn't get much sleep these days. Between hunting, researching ways to save Dean from the deal, and constantly thinking about his fangbang mistake, he didn't think he wanted to sleep. What kinds of dreams would that shit-storm create?

It was late in the day, and they were both hungry again so they headed back to the same restaurant. Sam found he had no appetite when his salad was put in front of him. He couldn't look at Dean and his cheeseburger. He felt ill, like his skin was stretched too tight, like he was waiting for something.

'You okay?' Dean asked, his mouth full.

'Yeah.'

'You get some sleep?' Dean knew how little Sam slept. Hell, Dean didn't sleep much himself. The deal was due in two months. It always hung over them, but for the last month something else had been creating tension. Sam knew what it was – he felt those phantom lips over his pulse point every time his heart raced. He knew Dean didn't know what was creating the tension, but he wasn't asking either. Perhaps he knew enough to dread the answer? Sam didn't want to think about that possibility.

Before nightfall they went back to the forest and camped out. They found the dead creature exactly where they had left it. They stayed there over three hours before both of them decided to quit without actually saying it. They were tired, bored and unlikely to find whatever it was that had ripped off the creatures head. One more day in town in case another dead camper turned up, then the road beckoned.

They headed back and watched TV. Neither of them were following a normal sleeping routine, but Sam had expected Dean to nod off eventually. It was close to four in the morning before Sam finally gave up. Dean had found some crappy horror flick and was settling in for the long haul. Not unusual, considering they had slept during the day, but Sam was feeling itchy and restless. He knew exactly why, but he couldn't allow himself to think about it.

'I'm going out,' he announced. Dean spared him a glance as he shrugged on his jacket.

'You know there might be a killer out there, right?' he asked as if Sam was three and needed to be told not to stick his hand on the stove. They both knew whatever it had been was long gone, or at least Sam knew that's what Dean had to assume. He had another theory.

'Yeah, I'll just be outside. I need air.' He didn't wait for Dean's reply.

Outside the night was humid, it was going to rain any minute. He still breathed it in, closing his eyes and trying to will his mind and body to just stop thinking for half a second.

It wasn't working.

'Are you there?' he asked. The question was like a release. He allowed himself to think, to picture Eric in his mind, battling the Waheela and ripping its head off with his bare hands.

'Yes.' Sam looked around him, not sure exactly where the voice had come from. He spotted the eyes first, almost cat-like in the night. Eric was leaning against the Impala, as if he had been waiting ages for Sam to arrive, even though Sam was pretty sure the vampire hadn't been there a second ago. The hunter breathed out in a huff, trying to calm his nerves. He gestured sharply with his head to the corner of the motel. It would seem their preferred meeting place would be behind motels from now on- not that Sam was thinking about having a lot more of these.

Eric followed him at a human's pace, which Sam thought was either a gesture of civility, or perhaps an attempt to calm Sam. He knew Eric could probably hear his heartbeat anyway.

The knowledge made it beat even faster.

Once behind the motel Sam turned to face the vampire. The tall nordic wore the same black tank-top that seemed to be his preferred uniform, but with a black leather jacket in a cut that Dean would not have been caught dead in. It looked good on Eric, though.

'You killed it?' Sam asked tightly, forcing his eyes away from Eric.

'Yes.'

'Why? What are you doing here?' Where the fuck have you been for the last month? Sam wanted to scream, but he didn't. He wouldn't admit he was that pathetic even to himself.

'I always know when you're in trouble. Even for a hunter, you are often in trouble...' Eric moved, taking a few steps to the side and presenting his profile to Sam while staring off into the night. 'It was sheer luck that I decided to visit you this week. I don't often leave my club or jurisdiction. The fact that you needed my help was a coincidence.'

'I didn't need your help,' Sam growled. Eric smiled slightly, a smug smile. 'Why are you visiting me?'

'You want me to.'

'Dude, just stop this,' Sam all but begged. He sighed and closed his eyes, gathering himself. 'I don't-' But that was a lie, wasn't it? Sam swallowed several times, frowning heavily. Something was drawing him to Eric and it wasn't glamour-powers. It wasn't about being a fangbanger either. It was just Eric. God, he wanted to ask so many questions. He wanted to pick the man's brain, and yeah, maybe get another kiss. He wanted to- what? Go out on a date? He huffed a laugh at the thought.

'What's so amusing?' Sam looked up and found Eric right in front of him. He resisted the urge to either take a step back, or forwards.

'This, us,' he said, shaking his head. 'What am I doing?' He didn't expect Eric to answer. Sam took the opportunity to study the vampire. Eric returned the stare with a blank stare, but Sam was pretty good at reading people. Eric wanted him too, and was just waiting for permission to pounce. This puzzled Sam.

'You saved me,' he said. 'You came all this way, but you don't want to kill me, drain me. So, what do you want?'

'The same as you,' Eric replied immediately. Sam felt a surge of emotion. He leaned in and Eric responded so quick it felt like he had been the one to initiate the kiss. They were kissing. Not quite as hard as last time. It felt almost like a normal make-out. As normal as it could get with a vampire.

It felt, if possible, even better than last time. Sam had time to explore, and be on a level footing with Eric. Christ, he would never get enough of kissing someone his own height. Eric's arms came around him and Sam raised his hands to cup the vampire's face.

His face was cold, which was expected, and it made Sam shiver, in a good way. Eric must have felt it, for he tightened his grip. They broke apart for a moment, still close enough to share breath. Eric seemed to be breathing heavily despite being undead. Sam enjoyed that fact far too much than could be healthy.

'Let me taste you,' Eric suddenly asked. Sam's eyes widened, but the "no" he was suppose to answer got stuck in his throat. He wanted it, he couldn't deny it.

'Okay,' he whispered. Eric surged forward and the bite was much harder than the last, causing Sam to grunt. It shook Sam to the core for a few seconds, but the sting didn't hurt for long.

The sensations came back, flooding through all his nerves even as his blood flowed into Eric. He only took two mouthfuls at most, thankfully. He must be really old, and really strong. After he had closed the wound he kissed his way up Sam's neck slowly, and along his jaw, sealing their lips together again.

They kissed languidly for a long time before Sam pushed Eric away enough to he could speak.

'Stop,' he whispered. The night clung around them. It would rain at any moment, he was sure. Dean was probably going to come looking for him. He wanted to ask something that had been on his mind ever since Fangtasia.

'Why?' Eric asked, trying to lean in for another kiss. Sam held him back and even though the vampire could just ignore it, he didn't. 'What is it?'

'I want to talk,' Sam said.

'Talk?' Eric repeated like the word was foreign to him. Sam rolled his eyes.

'Yes, talk.'

'About what?'

Sam took a deep breath before answering.

'Demons.' Eric pulled back, but not preternaturally fast. He studied Sam with a very serious expression.

'I don't associate with hellspawn,' he said slowly so as to make it absolutely clear. Sam swallowed past his nervousness. He didn't want to piss Eric off, or worse, scare him away.

'Okay, I mean, that's good,' Sam said, trying not to offend. 'But someone as old as you has got to know a few things, surely?' Eric tilted his head, regarding Sam impassively. Unconsciously, Sam was using the same helpless-puppy-look he often gave Dean when desperate for something.

'I may have a few associates who aren't as... strict in who they associate with.' Sam almost rolled his eyes at Eric's vague answer, but kept himself in check.

'I need to know about crossroad demons. Dean made a deal and it's due in two months. I have to stop it.'

'Hmmm,' Eric hummed non-committally. He stepped back and leaned agains the motel wall, slouched and casual. Sam tried not to fidget, but it was hard. He hated it when Dean did that: act all causal when the situation was serious. 'I assume he didn't ask for fame or money, as is usually the case.'

'No, he,' Sam looked away, 'he saved me.'

'Then I am very grateful to him,' Eric murmured. Sam's eyes snapped back to him, but the vampire was looking off into the night. 'I have contacts who can find the holder of this deal,' he announced. Sam almost sagged with relief. 'But I will not get involved in anything. If I am suspected even for a moment then I can not help you, and there is little chance this information can be got without suspicion.'

'I understand,' Sam said. 'But you'll try?'

'Yes,' Eric trailed off, looking Sam up and down like he wanted to- well, like he wanted to eat him. 'I'll go right now, but not without a goodbye kiss.'

'Okay.' Even Eric seemed surprised by Sam's immediate answer. He gathered himself more quickly than a human could, and approached Sam slowly, drawing out the inevitable. Sam almost thought Eric was teasing him. Or perhaps he was teasing himself. Sam revelled in the fact that they leaned in at the same time, neither of them having to stoop. He tilted his head and his eyes fell shut before Eric's lips met his.

He knew he wouldn't be able to stop this. It terrified him, but Eric seemed to know intuitively that Sam was moments away from freaking out. If not for the kiss, his mind would be going a mile a minute, but as it was, it was blank to anything but sensation.

It was tingly and sweet and Sam almost wished Eric had bit him instead. Maybe then his brain would freak out, which was the proper thing to do when you realise you're in deep with a vampire. He tried to deepen the kiss, but Eric wouldn't let him. Sam gave in and accepted the tingling sweetness. He knew he was too far gone.

He didn't realise he was alone until he felt a sudden puff of air where Eric's lips had been, and he was staring into the empty night.

Damn that vampire. He did that on purpose.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of spoilers for season 3/beginning of season 4 of Supernatural. This skips a few key events, so it's assumed you know what's happened in between.

'This is a dream,' Sam said. He knew this without a doubt because the room looked much fancier than he was used to, and weird. He was on a low king-size bed, leaning back on his hands.

'Yes,' Eric agreed. He was circling the bed, slowly. The bed and decor were minimalistic, almost industrial, but very luxurious and modern. A world completely alien to Sam, in other words. The bed stood in the middle of a wide hardwood floor. There was a funky looking fireplace to the right, with red sofas around. To the left where high windows with light streaming in, but they were glazed so Sam couldn't see anything beyond.

'Where am I?'

'It's your dream,' Eric said with a slight shrug.

'This doesn't look like something my mind would come up with,' Sam commented, looking around. His attention was soon on Eric, however, as the vampire kneeled on the bed. Sam resisted the urge to scoot away. He stayed perfectly still as Eric crawled towards him, very slowly. The vampire's eyes were deadly serious.

'Is it really you?' Sam asked. Eric tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner. He had reached Sam's feet, but there was still a long way to go. As he approached, Sam's heartbeat sped up.

'Does that matter?'

'Well, yeah...' Sam trailed off as Eric crawled over his knees. He lay down when the vampire came too close, but regretted that instantly as Eric could now hover over him. 'Can vampires do that? Visit people's dreams?' Like demons, he added in his mind.

'Are your dreams normally this cerebral?' Eric asked. He leaned down and ghosted his lips across Sam's jaw. 'You think too much.'

'Can you read my mind?' Sam almost couldn't focus on his own words. He tried to lie still, but Eric was teasing him. He would not give the vampire the satisfaction of him giving in, however, and so waited for Eric to claim the first kiss.

'I see it in your frown,' Eric whispered. 'You have a beautiful face; you shouldn't frown so much.' A proper kiss almost on Sam's left ear. Sam swallowed and he knew Eric's attention was immediately on his neck, but the vampire only paused for a moment in his ministrations. He kissed his way away from Sam's neck to his mouth.

When the teasing was finally over Sam groaned into the kiss, opening his mouth immediately and sucking in Eric's tongue. He wanted to drown in Eric. He reached up to pull the vampire more firmly on top of him. Eric obliged. They fit together perfectly.

Had Eric been human Sam was sure they would have been almost perfectly matched in strength as well. As it was, he felt strangely touched that Eric was obviously restraining himself, letting Sam take and pull and push as well. He let Sam roll them over. In fact, he seemed to relish it.

Sam started tugging on the black tank top. He wanted to feel the ice-cold skin, and maybe help warm it up. In here his guilt didn't matter. In here he wasn't a freak fangbanger, lying to his brother every day. In here it was just them.

'I really hope it is you,' he growled between hard kisses. His legs were between Eric's, and they pushed and rutted against each other. Sam wasn't one to shy away from a little roughness in the bedroom. He enjoyed it even more with the knowledge that he couldn't possibly hurt the vampire.

Eric decided to speed things up by simply ripping the top, and then Sam's shirt. He rolled them over again, and Sam went with it. 'Fuck, bite me,' he breathed. He wanted their jeans off desperately, but he would settle for this. In fact he didn't care anymore. 'Bite me,' he all but begged.

'No,' Eric replied. Sam blinked and pushed at Eric's shoulders so he could look him in the eyes.

'What?'

'There is time for that later. I will not give you an excuse.'

'What are you talking about? This is my dream, Eric, remember?' Sam tried to sound reasonable, but even as he spoke he knew the truth of Eric's words. He wanted the pain/pleasure to bring delirium so he could excuse their actions, even as he told himself he just liked the delirium for itself. Or did he? It was confusing. He couldn't say with absolute certainty what he truly wanted. By now his face was heavy with frown lines. Why was Eric the voice of reason?

'I'll eat you out, if you'll settle for that,' Eric said with an evil grin. Sam gaped and was sure he blushed. How was that fair? Blushing in your own dream. Eric decided to carry on and kissed his way down Sam's chest.

'Sam?'

'Yeah?' He looked down at Eric who was opening the zipper with his teeth. The vampire looked up.

'I'm afraid that wasn't me,' he said. Sam was about to ask what he meant when his whole world was shaken so hard it blurred.

Then he was back in a moldy motel-room with his brother shaking him awake.

'Dude, I can't listen to your sex-dream anymore. It's freaking me out, and we need to head out anyway,' Dean grouched. He didn't waste time with Sam's reply and headed straight for the bathroom, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.

Sam stared after the door for a few seconds before relaxing into the bed again with a muttered 'fuck.'

XXX

A few days later.

The crunch of gravel was made as a courtesy. Sam knew Eric didn't need to make noise. He only did it because he didn't want to startle Sam. For some reason, though, it annoyed him.

'I knew you were there,' he huffed.

'You'll always know when I'm near,' Eric answered, his voice easy and unapologetic. 'Even for a hunter, you have an almost supernatural sixth sense.' Sam tensed at the word supernatural. Eric stopped by the wooden table Sam was sitting on, feet on the bench and elbows on his knees.

The night was still and cool around them apart from a dog barking far off. Sam ignored Eric as much as he could, staring at the ground.

'Where's Dean?'

'With some chick,' Sam said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Why should he tell Eric? He didn't want to share his problems with Eric, especially after last time. If there had been a last time; he wasn't entirely sure. He had been so _wanton_. It had scared him a little. Yet, his mouth carried on. 'He's said he was going to sin enough to actually get sent to hell,' he snorted.

'My efforts so far have yielded no useful information,' Eric informed him. A truck passed on the road. Its headlights revealed the emptiness of the parking lot, the dreary motel and themselves as two lone figures. Sam closed his eyes as the light passed over. When the truck was gone the small naked lightbulbs above each motel room door seemed very inadequate.

'Then why are you here?' Sam asked. Did you come to finish what you started in my dream?

'To see you,' Eric answered as if it was obvious, which it was, actually. Sam looked up at last. Eric stepped in front of him. 'You want me here.'

'Excuse me?' Sam sat up straiter, leaning a little away from Eric. 'That's...' He shook his head, focusing on the ground again. 'No.' Without the promise of a dream, all his guilt and disgust was in full force. He should have known he would wake up to regret it all. He suspected he would give in eventually, though, as he always seemed to do. Was it weakness? Probably. Dean would be so fucking disgusted.

'Moping around like a scolded schoolboy while you're brother is out fucking some slut is hardly productive,' Eric said calmly. It struck the desired nerve. Sam felt himself stand before he had even thought to do it. They stood toe-to-toe and even though Sam knew that this was probably exactly what Eric wanted, he couldn't help himself. Besides, maybe he could switch the tables a little. Swallowing down the anger, Sam tilted his head slightly and asked softly:

'You have any better ideas?' Eric's eyes lit up with surprise for half a second before a feral look overcame him. Sam shivered at it.

'Well,' Eric said, still keeping his voice casual even though they were only inches away from each other. 'You do have an empty room that could be put to some use.' Sam hesitated at that. Outside, during the previous times, there had always been an urgency. In the dream there had been the excuse of fantasy. What excuse did he have in there? 

'Why do you keep coming here?' Sam asked, desperate for a clear answer. 'Why help us? Why me?'

'You know why. I want you, you want me. It's all very delicious.' Eric tried to distract him by moving in closer, but Sam stepped back.

'Is it my blood?' The thought hadn't even occurred to him, but -Jesus!- it should have! Was it the demon blood that somehow appealed to Eric? Did he know, could he taste it? Sam hadn't even told Dean about what the Yellow-eyed demon had done to him as a child. If Eric knew-

'I didn't save your brother because of your blood. I didn't come back to check on you because of your blood,' Eric spoke quickly, stepping forward and staring Sam straight in the eyes. 'I didn't kiss you because of your blood.' Sam swallowed and saw Eric's eyes flick to his neck. It made him shiver so bad he had to close his eyes to compose himself. He was out of control, he knew it, but Eric always held back, let him have a little control. Why? To screw with him obviously. But in the dream it had almost seemed like he cared. But that had been a dream, right?

'I won't deny your blood tastes differently, however.' Sam's eyes snapped open. Eric moved away. He gazed down the road, wetting his lips.

'How?' Sam dreaded the answer. He shifted nervously.

'You're not surprised,' Eric noted. Sam didn't bother to answer. They both knew. 'You have demon blood in you.' Sam winced and looked away. Seeing it happening to himself as a baby hadn't felt real- he couldn't exactly relate to the body of a baby- but hearing it confirmed, from someone who had tasted him. It felt like a death sentence.

'Normally,' Eric continued, 'I detest demon blood, though I have only tasted it once before. It's tainted, sulfuric, dead. Quite disgusting. Yours, however...' Eric turned back to face Sam, who was immediately caught in the vampiric gaze. 'Tastes of strength, defiance, purity despite the infection. Your blood his powerful, unique. It draws me in. It... scares me.' Sam was surprised the vampire would admit such a thing, but Eric seemed too serious to worry about embarrassment. Or perhaps vampires didn't get embarrassed.

'How does it scare you?' He didn't want to ask, but he knew he had to.

'Because it draws me away from you.' Sam frowned at the strange response. Suddenly, Eric surged forward, reaching out to cup Sam's face, the grip tight, but not enough to be painful. Sam couldn't mask his shock, but didn't struggle. Then Eric leaned in for a bruising kiss.

After a moment trying to decipher the kiss, Sam gave up and kissed back.

'Let's go inside,' Eric whispered when they broke apart. Sam could only nod. He really hoped Dean didn't strike out tonight of all nights.

Sam almost wished for the strange room in his dream. He knew Dean would say he was girly and pathetic, but you'd have to be pretty damn sleazy to actually want to have sex in one of these rooms. Eric didn't seem to mind. His supernatural focus and intensity was arousing. Sam shrugged off his jacket and then pulled his shirt over his head without bothering with the buttons. Eric watched, then slowly did the same with his top. Sam pulled off his sneakers and socks. By the time he looked up they only had their jeans left. Both paused, however, and seemed to consider.

Only a foot separated them, yet Sam felt as if Eric was standing at the bottom of a great pit. Either Sam could take a step and fall, willingly, or Eric could climb out and drag him in. In the end, they seemed to meet in the middle. At first they were fighting. Hunter against prey? Sam didn't care. Both were biting, never breaking skin, scratching, squeezing and certainly bruising.

Sam was the one who hit the bed first. For a moment he was back in the dream with Eric hovering above him. If Dean interrupted them this time! But there was no time to think about that.

Eric retreated quickly, almost preternaturally fast, and practically yanked Sam's jeans off. As Eric pushed his own down, Sam quickly got out of his last piece of clothing.

Eric was on him before the pants hit the motel-room floor.

A cold blanket of flesh, but Sam wasn't as freaked out as he knew he should be. The equal size, the strength, the fact that their feet could tangle and their lips could meet at the same time; everything set his nerves on fire, both the big sensations and the details. Eric seemed to be full of details. The way he was intent on devouring Sam, yet always holding off, biting only to tease, never to break the skin. Sam wanted to cry out 'bite me already!' but he held back too. He remembered the dream. No excuses, no delirium that couldn't be shared completely and at full faculties. Damn his shame, he could ignore it. 

Eric's cock was the biggest surprise. Sam's nerd brain had luckily taken the night off, but he wondered at the small amount of heat still residing in the flesh there.

Eric kept up with steady long thrusts, deep kisses and his hands everywhere at once. He certainly wasn't holding back on his speed.

'Fuck, I need-' Sam panted, head thrown back. Eric's eyed the exposed throat, but turned his head away sharply, giving a hard thrust instead.

'Do you want me to fuck you?' Eric whispered harshly in his ear. 'Or do you want me instead? How long has it been since you've been with a man?' The question spurred Sam into instant action. He grabbed Eric's waist and rolled them over, almost off the bed. He straddled Eric's thighs and helped the Eric up so he was leaning against the headboard. Their lips met again, and Sam reached between them to take both their members in hand.

He was pretty sure he had just found his favourite position, so far, with Eric. Usually when in such a position he would have to slouch so much his back and neck would hurt. Now he needed only to bend his head a little, like normal people did, and be able to kiss and jerk off together.

When Eric gave a helping hand, neither of them lasted long. Their lips were still glued together as they came.

'That was good,' Eric said conversationally when Sam finally broke the kiss and let his head fall to Eric's shoulder. Sam laughed softly. 'I assume we're building up to the fucking?' Sam snorted and rolled off, feeling too sated to bother with guilt or disgust, or whatever else he was suppose to be feeling after fangbanging.

'You should go,' he said after his breathing had evened out. 'Dean doesn't usually stay the night with whoever he fucks.' Eric got up and began dressing. Sam wondered why they weren't more awkward. Maybe vampires didn't bother with awkwardness after centuries of fucking.

'I will come back when I have some information for you,' Eric said. Sam lifted his head at that.

'When will that be?' He was sure he saw Eric smirk, but the vampire bent to put on his boots.

'Don't worry, I won't stay away too long.'

'Right.' Eric was dressed and ready to go. Sam felt naked and pulled half the duvet over him. Eric looked suddenly serious.

'Remember what I said.'

'About what?'

'About your blood.' Sam swallowed. He didn't want to think about that.

'It's infected. It always will be, but it still tastes of your own power. Don't let the infection consume you.' Sam opened his mouth to question, but Eric disappeared. Well, this time Sam could see the door slam open, but Eric was too fast to really see. He lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

He hoped he wouldn't dream that night.

XXX

'Damn,' Sam muttered as he threw yet another obscure book aside. Dean glanced at him, but quickly returned his gaze to his own book. Ever since Dean had agreed to actually try to save himself, they had been meeting dead ends. Sam was frustrated, Dean was slowly freaking out as his due date came closer, and Eric hadn't been in contact. They had seven days left. Sam wanted to contact Ruby instead, though he trusted Eric about 99% more than the demon bitch. And wasn't that just hilarious? He trusted a vampire. Hell, he did a lot more than trust the blood-sucker, though he didn't want to think too much about that.

He almost spoke up and told Dean he was going to summon Ruby with or without his permission, when his phone rang. Dean looked up as Sam fumbled with the phone. The caller-id read "E.N." Sam's heart leapt in his throat.

'I'll take this outside,' he mumbled, rising quickly before Eric hung up. Dean frowned, but didn't say anything.

They were squatting in a dilapidated old house pretty far from the nearest town. It was a big old farmhouse with a wide porch. Sam didn't want to risk breaking any boards with his pacing, though, so he hurried down the steps and onto the gravel driveway.

'Eric?'

'Sam.' The hunter almost sagged in relief at hearing the vampire's voice. He checked behind him, just in case Dean was listening; the windows were empty. He still walked further away from the house, past the Impala and a little down the long driveway.

'Where have you been?' he asked urgently.

'I assume you're not keeping up with vampire news?' That was putting it mildly. Apart from the fact that they had bigger fish to fry than vampires, Dean absolutely refused to watch TV whenever a vampire story appeared.

'What's happened?'

'It's a long story. One I have come to realise is unimportant in the grand scheme of things.' Eric sounded sad and almost apologetic. Sam wanted to say something comforting, but how do you comfort a vampire? The line fell silent as he tried to think of something to say.

'Are you ok?' he finally asked.

'I'm fine. You needn't worry. I am afraid that once I give you this information I will be disappearing for some time.'

'Why? Are you in trouble?' He heard Eric give a soft laugh.

'I have made enough enemies to last longer than even my life-time, but I will be fine. I am far more worried about what you will do with this information.' Sam shifted on his feet. He glanced behind him, seeing the house off in the distance. He turned away.

'Tell me.'

'Lilith.'

'The demon?'

'I'm not surprised you've heard of her. They say she's after you.'

'Yeah, I know. She's tried a few times already. What do you know about her?'

'She holds your brother's contract.'

'Are you sure?' Sam felt his hands shaking. He resisted the urge to do something stupid, like punch a tree.

'Yes, trust me, with what I have risked, this information is genuine. Do not do it, Sam.'

'Do what?'

'Don't go after her. You must see that's what she wants.'

'You got any other ideas? Cause we're fresh out and we've been looking for a year. Killing the demon that holds the contract is the only plan that looks even close to succeeding.' Sam forced himself to quiet his voice in case Dean decided to come out looking for him.

'There is one other option.'

'Yeah, what's that?' For a brief moment Sam hoped Eric had something, but he knew by the sound of Eric's voice what was coming.

'Stay away from her. Your brother is dead on his feet, but you can still live.' Sam shook his head, gazing up at the sky in frustration.

'I can't. I can't sit here and do nothing.' He waited for Eric to argue, but there was only silence. 'Eric?'

'I can't help you.' _I can't reach you_ , was what Sam heard. He realised Eric was actually worried about him. For some reason that scared him.

'Thanks for the info, Eric. I gotta go. I'll... I'll call you in a week.' He hung up before Eric could answer. He walked back to the house quickly.

Dean was still at the desk pretending to read. When Sam flopped down on the couch, he gave him that "you better start talking"-look.

'I know who holds your contract.' Sam didn't need to look at his brother to know Dean's eyebrows were reaching for his hairline.

'So you were just waiting for a phone call?'

'It's Lilith.' That stopped Dean cold. He frowned heavily, getting up and coming around the desk. He sat down opposite Sam in a chair barely held together by the dust covering it.

'Who the hell were you talking to?' he asked, oddly calm despite the swearing. Sam finally met his gaze, but had to look away again. He knew he wouldn't be able to lie to his brother's face.

'Ruby,' he said. The name came out without him really thinking it through. He knew why he had to keep Eric a secret. Dean was already pissed he'd kept Ruby a secret; if he knew Sam was hanging out with vampires as well as demons? God, he'd never hear the end of it.

'Jesus, Sam, I told you we don't need that bitch's help.'

'She found out, she called, and now we know.'

'And you believe her?' Now Sam looked Dean straight in the eye.

'Yes.' Dean snorted. Sam pushed himself out of his slouch and leaned forward. He had to be convincing for this. The ironic thing, or sad thing perhaps, was that Dean was even less likely to believe the information was legit if Sam told the truth. Strange as it was, Dean was more likely to believe Ruby than some vampire he probably barely remembered. 'It makes sense, though, doesn't it? Lilith seems to be the big honcho now. It seems likely she'd be the one to hold the crossroad contracts. Besides, maybe that's why she's after me. She wants us both on a platter, in hell.' Dean shook his head, but Sam could tell his brother was annoyed he was making sense.

'Or Ruby could be feeding you bullshit to get you to walk straight into Lilith's hands.'

'Ruby saved us from Lilith. She was prepared to die to help us out last time. She wants Lilith dead.' 

'She's a demon, Sam. We don't know what the hell she really wants.' Sam sighed and rubbed his face in frustration.

'I swear to you, Dean, this is the real deal.' Dean looked at him oddly and Sam regretted putting it like that.

'What makes you so sure?'

'I just know.' Dean shook his head again. 'It's the only lead we have, Dean. Besides, we should be going after Lilith. She needs to be stopped.' Dean got up and started pacing. If Sam knew his brother, that was a sign he was about to cave in.

'So what's the plan?' Dean asked. 'We have no Colt, we don't know where the bitch is, and we could be walking into a trap.'

'We'll figure it out.'

XXX

One month later...

Sam was on edge. He had been all day, all week in fact. That in itself wasn't was unusual, but it wasn't the usual "Dean is dead" feeling either. That was always with him, underneath it all. The image of Dean's mangled body was forever imprinted on his mind. Despite the countless ways he had seen Dean die thanks to the Trickster, the hellhounds had really outdone themselves.

No, this was another feeling. A feeling of being watched. Sam knew to trust his instincts, but he really had nothing to go on, and Ruby had said he was imagining things. That he was just on edge being without his brother, without someone to watch his back.

'You're not concentrating,' Ruby whined. Sam put down his outstretched hand and sighed. The trapped demon he was suppose to be killing sagged as it was able to gulp down its cloud-like substance into its meat sack.

'I'm trying,' he lied. He wasn't concentrating. He knew he should. He needed the practice.

'Concentrate,' Ruby enunciated. Sam shot her an annoyed look and refocused. He put his nervousness out of his mind and thought only on his anger. That always helped. He focused on his anger at Dean for making the deal, the anger at himself for letting the deal go through, and the overwhelming anger at every hellspawn he could take it all out on.

The demon was dead a moment later. Ruby nodded; the only confirmation of his success, and walked away. Sam followed her out of the abandoned warehouse and into the car. They drove back to the motel in silence.

Sam felt the itchy thirst as they drove and sped up. He needed to get back to the motel. He needed that feeling of strength back. He needed blood.

Sometimes, in the early mornings when Ruby usually wasn't around, he pretended he was a vampire; that the urge he felt was for human blood. A few months ago he would have been horrified by the idea. Now they almost amused him in a bitter sort of way. These moments of contemplation were very brief, however, and he always quickly went back to focusing on his job: killing every demon he could get his hands on. Killing demons meant being strong, and that's what Ruby helped him with. With her help, he would kill Lilith. It was just a matter of time.

Ruby seemed to know what Sam wanted and walked in front of him into the motel. He was pretty sure she was shaking her ass at him up the stairs. They were on the third floor, though Sam was a little surprised the building hadn't collapsed while they were gone. It smelled of rotted wood, lead paint and mold.

Ruby opened the door, casting him a smug smile over her shoulder as she went in. Sam followed eagerly, past the point of feeling disgusted with himself. She was halfway across the floor to the bed when she stopped dead, almost as if she had hit a wall. She spun around and Sam was surprised by the shock and rage in her eyes. She looked up and Sam followed her gaze.

A demon trap had been spray-painted onto the ceiling.

'Sam, what the hell!'

'Ruby, I swear, I didn't-' He was cut short when Eric stepped out from the bathroom, calm as you please.

'Who the hell are you?' Ruby demanded. Sam was quite literally speechless. He tried to get his throat to work, but couldn't. Eric was right there, looking exactly as he had the last time Sam had seen him, down to the same leather jacket and black top.

Then the vampire started an exorcism.

'Sam!' Ruby cried, hands going to her throat as she started coughing.

'Eric, no!' Sam rushed forward, but the vampire was fast. He charged Sam, sending him off his feet and through the door, hitting the far wall hard. As the stars in his eyes faded he saw Eric about to close the door. 'No! Stop, she's helping me,' he cried, working through the pain and pushing himself to his feet.

'You can thank me later,' Eric said and slammed the door shut just before Sam gained his feet. The hunter charged the door, pounding as hard as he could.

'Don't do it, Eric!' He reared back and delivered the hardest kick he could muster, but Eric must have been bracing it for it didn't budge. 'Eric!' Sam yelled. He was getting desperate and went back to pounding on the door. 'Eric!' He could hear the exorcism and Ruby's cries getting louder and louder. 'Eric, no!'

Finally, it all stopped. Sam tried to calm his breathing and listen, but he couldn't hear anything and he wasn't sure if Eric had finished the exorcism.

He almost fell through the door when it opened. He looked at Eric, who just stared back blankly. Ruby was on the floor, unmistakably dead.

Sam still went to her, kneeling and taking her head in his heads. She was gone. His strength, the blood, his powers were all going to fade, he was sure of it. Lilith was going to get away.

'How could you!' Sam shot to his feet, anger coiling in his belly like fire. He wondered if he could use his powers on vampires. He wanted to find out. Eric watched him, annoyingly calm.

'You can hate me all you want,' he said. Sam breathed through his nose, trying to figure out if he should forgo his powers and just punch the bastard. 'But I couldn't stand by and let her take you.'

'Take me? She was helping me!'

'She was enslaving you.' Eric's voice was slightly more forceful. Sam paused, studying him. Eric's eyes were practically glowing. He was clearly holding his anger back. Sam was suddenly struck by how much he had missed the vampire, but ruthlessly stomped down that feeling.

'She was helping me be stronger. You don't know what you've done-'

'I have been watching you for over a week. I know exactly what I have done.' Eric stepped forward; Sam took a step back. 'I have sent a hellspawn back to where it belongs.' Sam started shaking his head even before Eric was finished, but the vampire plowed on. 'You are not like other hunters, Sam. You are better because you see things in shades of grey. If you knew a vampire lived on True Blood you would let them live.'

'Yeah, cause I don't want the cops on my ass,' Sam mumbled. Eric ignored him.

'If you knew a werewolf was oblivious to his or her condition, you would feel remorse in killing them. When you send a vengeful spirit off to the next place, I know you feel more than a hunter's satisfaction in killing something evil. You feel glad for them, for setting them free.'

'Why are you telling me all this?' Sam whispered, turning away.

'Because when it comes to demons,' Eric declared. 'There are no shades of grey.' Sam spun back to face him, a protest on his lips, but when he saw the look in the vampires eyes he fell silent. 'Where do you think the demons get their powers from? From hell, and how does hell grant them powers?' Sam shook his head, either because he didn't know or didn't want to know. 'Demons are demons because they are evil. They have no humanity left in them. Ruby told you exactly what you wanted to hear. She wants you to believe she's a demon with a heart; that she wants to help you. Tell me, Sam, why were you so eager to believe her?'

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. He wanted to stick his fingers in his ears. He wanted to punch Eric. He wanted to pass out and never wake up, but most of all, he wanted blood. This thought scared him more than it ever had before, because he was terrified that Eric might see, might know. Sam had no True Blood substitute.

'I'll tell you,' Eric continued relentlessly. 'Because deep down, you hope your brother will be like her. That there will still be something left of him when he's spent enough time in hell and crawls out with black eyes.'

'No, that's- that's crazy. I'm gonna get Dean back. I just need to get to Lilith. I need to be strong enough!' Eric sighed and Sam suddenly hesitated. If the vampire left too, what would he do then?

'I will return in a week,' Eric said, moving towards the door.

'What? Why? Where are you going?'

'In a week you'll certainly feel it, and maybe then you'll be ready to talk.'

'Feel what?' Sam hurried to the door as Eric disappeared out of sight, but the hallway was empty. He turned back to the room- a room he really needed to get out of. He didn't feel like getting rid of the body himself, so he left town instead. He knew Eric would find him now that he was back. He always did before.

The fact that he sampled Ruby's blood before he left didn't sit well with him, but he figured it was good to know if a demon's blood was still effective after an exorcism. Turns out it wasn't.

XXX

He didn't need to check the back of the house for the Impala. He could easily see the tire tracks in the gravel. A week had passed. It was time to check on the patient.

Eric wondered briefly if he should knock, but decided against it. The door creaked open at the smallest push, almost falling off its hinges. The house was a half burnt husk of its former glory. It was located in an almost completely abandoned neighbourhood in a small town somewhere along the Rust Belt. Eric always found such places fascinating. To him such towns and buildings seemed to have excited for only the blink of an eye. To mortals, such neighbourhoods might look like they had declined over centuries, not years. The smells were still new, though. Eric could always smell true decay.

The living room held only a soggy couch, while the kitchen and dining room were missing parts of their ceiling. Eric went upstairs and found a room that was relatively whole and unspoiled. He knew Sam was there instantly from the heavy breathing. The room appeared empty at first glance; it held only a bed and a greying carpet. Eric spotted the top of Sam's head quickly enough, however, sticking up from between the bed and the wall.

He made sure to make noise as he entered the room. The floorboards creaked his approach. He saw Sam twitch.

'What did you do to me?' The voice was almost unrecognisable from the Sam Eric had first met in Fangtasia. This was a different creature altogether.

'Don't feign stupidity. It suits you least of all,' Eric replied evenly, keeping his distance, but moving slowly around the edges of the room so he could get a better look at the hunter. Sam hung his head. Eric was fairly certain there was a bottle between the long legs. It scraped along the floor as Sam dragged it towards himself and lifted it to his lips. The gulp was a desperate attempt to quench a thirst that would not be satisfied with so thin a liquid.

'You killed Ruby. This is your fault,' Sam whined hoarsely. One arm was around his stomach, Eric saw, and both feet were pressed against the wall. He looked very small there, despite being cramped in the small space. He looked like a little boy hiding, growing out of proportion for his bedroom yet unwilling to leave the comforts it provided.

'She did this to you,' Eric told him. 'She has enslaved you to her blood. But the thirst will pass if you resist it. You can be whole again.'

'I tried hunting demons,' Sam confessed. 'I couldn't find any. Ironic, isn't it? Almost like they knew...' He trailed off and took another swig. The bottle was three quarters empty. It some sort of whisky.

'Will you let me help you?' Eric asked. 'It won't be easy, but my blood can ease the worst of the pain.'

'You want me to drink vampire blood to stop me drinking demon blood?' Sam let out a hysterical laugh, his head rolling back on the bed. 'Why not just make me a vampire?'

'Because you don't want to be a vampire,' Eric explained. 'You want to feel yourself again.'

'I don't remember that feeling,' Sam admitted sadly, staring blankly at the ceiling. 'I don't think I've ever felt normal.'

'I didn't say normal,' Eric pointed out. He took a few steps closer, gaining Sam's attention. 'I said yourself. You are strong, Sam. You don't need any blood but your own to be that.'

'But the blood is in me. It always has been, since I was six months old,' Sam despaired. There were drunken tears in his eyes, but Eric wasn't disgusted by them as he would usually be when confronted with snivelling mortals. He wasn't sure what he was feeling at that moment, but disgust was far from it. He had of course heard of Yellow Eyes' psychic children when he had investigated why Lilith was so interested in Sam and Dean.

'Many people are born with things they have to overcome, or have accidents that make their lives difficult,' he told Sam calmly, keeping his voice clinical. 'That is why Ruby so easily seduced you. It's like having a gene that predisposes a person to alcoholism or drug-abuse. You are more than strong enough to overcome such a predisposition.' Sam's brow furrowed at Eric's simile, but the vampire was fairly certain Sam had understood. He could see the cogs starting to turn again in those intelligent eyes.

'What do I have to do?'

'Come with me.' Eric finally stepped up to Sam and held out his hand. The hunter frowned at it as if it held the secrets of the universe.

'I don't want to drink V,' he said. Eric suspected the hunter had used the term V to point out the fact that it was considered a very potent drug on its own.

'I would not give you enough to become addicted,' Eric explained. 'Only a drop at the worst junction of your detoxing, but if you wish, I won't give it to you. I must warn you, you'll probably be begging for it soon enough.'

'Then don't give it,' Sam said fiercely. 'Even if I beg.'

'As you wish.' Finally, Sam let go of the bottle and reached out to take Eric's hand.

XXX

Eric had not anticipated the effect Sam's screams would have on him. He had found a place far away from where either of them could consider "home." Eric knew about the man Bobby Singer. He knew Sam wouldn't want the old hunter to see him like this, and Eric was still keeping away from his former club. He didn't want to think about everything he had left behind- and Sam's screams were keeping his mind occupied.

A part of him wanted to slip a drop of V into the hunter's mouth. It wasn't like Sam would know. He was hallucinating almost constantly at this point. It would take the edge off. V was strong hallucinogenic in itself, but Eric had witnessed the effect of the two bloods combined and knew the result could be a calmer high.

For some reason, however, he didn't. He left Sam to scream his head off alone through the worst of it, as there was nothing he could do then. When the worst passed, he cleaned away the vomit and changed the soiled clothes. He made Sam drink water and held him as he shivered so hard the rickety bed almost shook to pieces. Eventually, he fed the man some broth and wiped the sweat off his forehead. In short, Eric Northman played nursemaid to a hunter and never once did he hesitate to do any of it.

He wasn't sure when Sam became aware of his ministrations, but he was fairly certain Sam finally came out of it when those eyes blinked up at him one morning and the man finally broke. The sobs were as much from relief and embarrassment as they were from pain and despair. Eric took the mortal's fragile face in his hands and kissed him all over, then held the man to his chest as the sobs slowly died out.

XXX

Sam's world had been pain and confusion for so long, it took a while before he realised who he was, let alone where.

It was Eric's arms and body he felt first, wrapped around him tightly. He wasn't sure when or why exactly, but after he came to his senses he lost them again. By the time he regained some semblance of control he realised he had been sobbing into Eric's chest for God knew how long. They were on a bed; where he could not say. He didn't remember coming there.

Eric shifted, one arm leaving Sam's waist. A moment later and a glass was pressed against his lips as Eric lifted his head as if it weigh no more than a doll's head.

'Drink,' the vampire commanded. Sam drank. He drank the whole glass, relishing the feel of the water flowing down his throat. When Eric took the glass away he was shocked to realise something else: the water had quenched his thirst. He blinked open his eyes and looked up at the vampire leaning over him.

'Where am I?' he asked, his voice so hoarse he barely understood himself.

'That doesn't matter,' Eric said. 'It's passed. Ruby's blood is out of your system.' Sam took a deep breath and felt it expand his lungs. Yes, the craving was gone. He felt, if not entirely healthy, better at least.

'I'm cured?'

'You will always be tempted,' Eric said. He reached up and brushed the hair from Sam's eyes. 'The temptation was given to you as a baby.'

'So I'm a recovering drug addict,' Sam surmised. 'Lying in bed with another drug.' The corner of Eric's lips turned up. He cupped the side of Sam's face.

'You managed without my blood, though your screams almost made me break my promise.'

'You...' Sam frowned. 'Thank you, for respecting my wished, I guess, and for everything.' He tried vaguely waving a hand at himself. 

'Spare me your thank you's,' Eric replied, but not cruelly. 'If you think for a moment I was going to let that hellspawn bitch have you, you don't know the first thing about vampires. We are very territorial.'

'I'm your territory?' Sam was pretty sure he was suppose to freak out about that, but instead he was feeling relieved about this whole situation. Eric had come back for him, saved him, and was now claiming him. If it meant he was staying, Sam would take whatever he could get, as long as he wasn't alone.

'You are...' Eric sighed, shaking his head in a oddly fond sort of way. 'Something.' Sam couldn't help but smile at the usually eloquent vampire being so stumped. 'I hesitate to use any clichés, so how about I settle for "my hunter".' Sam quirked an eyebrow, silently demanding an elaboration. 'I have despised hunters for many, many centuries. I have killed those who have threatened either myself or people I hold dear.' Sam instinctive humanity made him frown at this, but Eric ignored it. 'With you, however, I find myself more than willing to be hunted, yet you do not hunt me at all.'

'You saved me, and my brother,' Sam pointed out. He almost managed not to wince at the mention of Dean. Every time he thought about his brother it felt like a knife to the stomach.

'True, but would you hunt me simply for my existence?' Sam's eyes betrayed him immediately so Eric answered for him. 'Exactly. You are a true hunter who only goes after his true prey. You would not hunt me before you knew my nature for certain.' Neither vampire nor hunter thought much on the fact that Eric had killed many people, for his own pleasure, before the invention of True Blood. And even then Sam didn't know if Eric was the type to stick to the bottle. He was fairly sure there was more to this vampire than a cold-blooded killer, though.

'I feel like you've been hunting me these past months,' Sam admitted. 'You always show up out of the blue, you've tasted me-' He swallowed unconsciously at the mention of blood-sucking. 'You keep helping me...' He frowned at a sudden thought. 'I don't want to be kept as some sort of pet.'

'I can never keep you,' Eric said solemnly. Sam felt as if he was back in time, to somewhere when it was common to speak like Eric sometimes did. It made the whole room seem vast and ancient, like he was in a fairy tale, instead of on a ratty old bed in a rundown shack somewhere north of nowhere.

'I can only watch over you for as long as you'll let me,' Eric told him. 'One day you will be old and you will die, and I'll say my goodbyes, I promise you.' Even though Sam despaired at the thought of death, he found Eric's promise strangely appropriate. He also felt incredibly sad at the thought of leaving Eric behind, as if the vampire wanted to die but couldn't. He nodded, unable to speak.

Eric leaned down and kissed him then. Sam was still feeling pretty weak and pathetic after all he had been through, but he noticed his clothes were clean and fresh-feeling, and he was sure he tasted some sort of broth on his lips. He let Eric kiss away the taste quickly, opening his mouth and sighing into the languid make-out session that commenced.


	4. Chapter 4

When Sam dragged himself from a deep sleep he noticed two rather pleasant things. The first was the body wrapped around him from behind. Sure, back at Stanford they had sometimes rolled over in their sleep, and Jess had ended up hugging Sam. That hadn't really worked the moment they woke up, though. This time the person spooning Sam was actually big enough to do it. His head rested on an arm that probably couldn't fall asleep, and another supernaturally strong one was slung over his waist. Long legs tangled with his own and Sam wished they didn't have two layers of denim between them. He felt Eric shift, his nose nuzzling into Sam's mop of hair, far more sweaty and unclean than Sam usually kept it. The vampire didn't seem to mind.

The other nice thing Sam noticed was that they weren't actually in a shack. His eyes hadn't exactly been on the décor last night. Now that he spared a glance at the room he saw they were in a one room log cabin, years deserted, but still sturdy enough to be liveable. The only furniture was the bed, in the middle of the room, and an old stove in a corner beside some built-in cabinets. How long had he been here? It felt like months, but surely it had only been a week at most?

'You are thinking too much,' Eric whispered. Sam sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

'I like thinking,' Sam replied sleepily. 'I haven't gotten around to it much lately, so I figure I need to catch up on it.' Eric huffed a small laugh, and Sam immediately got the idea that he had to make the vampire laugh. Proper, out-of-control laughing, was something he had to see Eric do.

'You'll have plenty of time to think now that you are your own man again,' Eric pointed out and Sam had to concede the point. He didn't want to move, though. He silently relished being in Eric's embrace, and felt himself blush at the thought of the vampire knowing how much it was affecting him.

'What do we do now?' he asked to distract himself. Eric's hand moved up to Sam's chest, palm flat against where his heart was. He realised Eric was feeling his heart-beat, though why he wasn't certain.

'I suppose we'll have to continue where you left off,' Eric hummed thoughtfully.

'You mean hunting Lilith?' Sam hadn't thought Eric would even let him entertain the thought.

'If that is what you want.' Sam had to pull away then to turn so he could look Eric in the eye. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at the vampire, who put his arms behind his head casually, like he was lying in the sun on a beach.

'You're okay with me hunting Lilith?'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'I don't know,' Sam huffed a breath, 'I guess I just thought you'd give me some speech about revenge fuelling my need for blood, which got me into this whole mess.'

'I told you I'd watch over you,' Eric reminded him. 'I go where you go.' Sam blinked.

'And if I want to go after Lilith?'

'Then I would advise you to plan ahead,' Eric said. He sat up suddenly, and Sam followed, so they were eye-to-eye. 'I don't want you going off in a frenzy,' he said seriously. 'As one of your more interesting modern stories puts it: Revenge is a dish best served cold.' Sam couldn't help the small laugh at the sound of a vampire making a Star Trek reference. Maybe Dean would have liked him after all.

'Aren't old people suppose to be wise and say something like: a man who goes out for revenge should dig two graves, or something?'

'There is a big difference between being a wise old man, and being immortal,' Eric informed him. 'There are few vampires that are both.' He looked off for a moment, as if remembering something, and Sam desperately wanted to ask what. It's what drew him to the vampire in the first place; all the stories he could tell, the history he could reveal. 'I do know all about wanting revenge.'

'Can you tell me about it?' Eric turned on the bed so that his feet were on the floor and his back was to Sam. 'You don't have to,' Sam began, but then shut up, because really, of course the vampire knew he didn't have to. Sam felt awkwardness creep up his spine and couldn't decide if Eric looked uncomfortable, sad, tired or just pensive. I was odd reading so much into the set of a man's shoulders. He didn't do that with anybody but Dean, until now.

'You can ask me anything, and I will try to answer your questions. I know more about you than you probably ever wished to share, so it is natural you are curious about me.' Sam almost sagged with relief that he hadn't pushed Eric away. He mulled over what sort of question he should ask. In the end, he could only think of one that he should start with.

'How old are you?' Eric shifted a little sideways so that Sam could see his profile. A concession perhaps.

'A thousand years.' Sam's eyes widened and he almost gasped out a "what" before he checked himself. Jesus Christ, he blinked several times. He had assumed maybe a few centuries. Eric always seemed like a gentleman from a gothic novel, not a saga. This put the whole vampire species into a new perspective, Sam realised. Eric was not the oldest one, yet he had walked the earth for a millennium, a life longer than Sam could comprehend. 

'How- how did it happen?'

'That is a long tale,' Eric murmured. 'Perhaps now is not the time. You need food and more rest before we move from here.' Eric got up and went to the cabinets, pulling out some sort of food Sam couldn't see. The hunter stared at the vampire's back, wondering if he should try another question.

'Do you...' he looked down at his lap, silently begging himself not to ask, but he heard his mouth carry on. 'Do you even know how many people you've killed? To survive?' He could hear Eric pause in whatever preparations he was doing, the deliberate fall of boots on the floor, and then Eric sitting back down. Sam looked up to find Eric gazing at him contemplatively.

'I find there are two kinds of vampires who are built to survive eternity.' Sam frowned at the perceived change of subject, but remained silent, hoping for an explanation. 'Why do you think there are so many inexperienced vampire covens for you to hunt? Or why isn't the world filled with vampires if we all live forever?'

'Because they get killed by hunters,' Sam answered. Eric nodded.

'Or they kill themselves.' At Sam's curious look Eric explained: 'There are two kinds of vampires who manage to beat the odds. One is the vampire that is brought into the curse against his or her will. They are stolen from their beds because of their beauty, or a vampire who lacks the stomach to finish the job. They get by because they give themselves fully over to the curse with a perfect rationalisation: "I can't help myself."' Eric smiled grimly at this and Sam looked away, uncomfortable. 'They tell themselves I did not choose this, I have as much a right to survival as any other creature who kills to survive. They are usually the vampires who love a good blood orgy after a few centuries.'

'And the other kind?' Sam asked, swallowing nervously.

'The type that asks for it. The person who is offered the gift of immortality with a terrible price, and says yes. They most often perish due to guilt.' Sam looked up at this, confused. Eric nodded. 'Oh, yes, vampires can feel guilt. We feel everything you do. Love, hate, greed, sorrow. It's all there. Newborns are overcome with thirst, this is true, but that passes, eventually, and guilt sets in.'

'So how do they reach old age?'

'They follow a simple rule: kill only the wicked.' Sam's brows furrowed dubiously at this, and Eric smiled. 'When you feast on murderers and rapists and the violently insane, you are much less likely to kill yourself. Certainly, as the centuries pass it becomes easier to ignore such a rule. Some do tend to forget what humanity feels like, but a few live by it like it was gospel.'

'And you?' Sam pressed, eyes suddenly intense. 'Which type are you?' Eric's smile hadn't left his face, but it turned a little bitter.

'I'm a little of both I suppose,' he said cryptically. 'I did accept this curse, though I lay dying at the time and was prepared to go to Valhalla.'

'Valhalla?' Sam's nerd brain immediately brought out everything he knew about norse mythology. 'You were a Viking?' It made sense; the age coupled with the size, the strength, the blondness. Eric had no doubt been a powerful warrior. The thought excited Sam more than was probably deemed safe.

'Another story, for another day,' Eric ended the conversation. Sam tried to be grateful for the answers he had gotten. He watched Eric prepare food, and came to one conclusion that would no doubt shape the rest of their time together: Eric was more than just a cold-blooded killer, and even if he had killed innocents once, Sam was in too deep to stop the feelings he felt rushing through him already.

XXX

When they finally decided Sam was fit enough to leave, Eric suggested he carry the hunter on his back and run to the car. Sam refused. He hiked down on his own, ignoring Eric's snarky comments about "hunter pride."

He actually enjoyed it very much. The forest was cold, but fresh. He was guided by both stars and moon. Eric had brought the sawed-off shotgun so Sam had something to protect himself with, though neither thought there was much that could harm him in the forest.

Eric had to leave well before they reached the car. He would go back and sleep in the cabin, and meet Sam the next night at whatever motel he found.

Sam drove south all day, listening to music and trying to focus on the feeling of freedom that surged through him. Freedom from Ruby and the blood.

He thought a lot about Dean and what his brother would say if he were slouching in the passenger seat. "Exchanging a demon for a vampire? Smart, Sammy, real smart. That's not freedom, that's fangbanging." Or perhaps: "Dude, you are in way over your head."

Maybe he was. But he felt better than he had in a long time. When Dean died Sam had thought he was done with these kinds of feelings, but here he was, feeling not terrible, and not hyped up on demon blood to push the pain away. It was bittersweet, for the knowledge that Dean would not approve lingered.

But Dean wasn't there. Eric was. Sam clutched the wheel tighter and tried not to let his grief overcome his brief happiness. He couldn't live on grief, he reasoned. He wouldn't save Dean from Hell by wallowing.

He watched the sun go down from the motel window. The room was a bit nicer than his usual type, but he hadn't wanted to drive further. After hiking half the night and driving all day, however, he couldn't stay awake for long.

XXX

Cold kisses.

Little pinpricks of cold skipping up his neck, along his jaw, his cheek, his forehead. A delicious chill ran down his spine, and goosebumps rose all over him.

Sam gasped when a hand snaked up his shirt.

'Are you awake yet?' Eric whispered. 'You drove far longer than I expected. I thought we'd have all night.'

'That might be a problem if we're going to hunt together,' Sam commented, opening his eyes. He watched as Eric started unbuttoning his shirt, trying to keep his heartbeat in check; it wouldn't do to get ahead of the game.

'If you truly want a compromise,' Eric said as he contemplated Sam's bare chest. 'Then you can sleep half the day and half the night. You'll need some daylight hours during hunts for your research and information gathering.' With that he leaned down and bit very lightly at the skin right above Sam's heart. The hunter groaned when the skin was breached. Eric sucked out just a few drops. 'Your blood gets cleaner every day.'

'That's your demon blood test?' Sam asked with an incredulous noise at the back of his throat as Eric licked the wound closed.

'Quick and effective,' Eric explained. 'You were too out of it to notice before.' He sat up and stared down at Sam, waiting. 'So, are we doing this or not?' Sam swallowed. Eric raised an eyebrow in silent challenge. Sam nodded. Eric smiled a wicked smile that sent more shivers down Sam's spine. The vampire pulled off his black tank top in one swift motion, while Sam wriggled out of his shirt.

Their lips and chests crashed together, hands roaming, pulling open their jeans and tugging them down desperately. Apparently, Eric had somehow removed Sam's shoes and socks while he slept, because Sam was pretty sure he had fallen asleep with them still on.

Sam had always been a rough-sex kind of guy, with girls and boys. With Jess it had been slightly more subdued, but from the first girl after her Sam had been back to his habits. Madison, Ruby- but he didn't want to think about them. 

Eric matched his strength, probably deliberately. Sam knew the vampire could just take, but the old viking seemed intent on making it a level playing field. He allowed Sam to roll them over, now finally divested of their clothing.

Eric was cold, but so smooth and soft, yet hard, like silk over marble. Sam couldn't get enough of the feel of it, running his hands everywhere, kissing, tasting, biting, though he could never break the skin.

'Wanna warm up?' Sam asked when Eric kissed his neck hard, right over his left shoulder. Eric hissed and broke the skin at once, taking a few mouthfuls before closing the wound quickly.

Astonishingly, Sam could feel his own warmth spread through Eric as the blood flowed into him. His eyes widened with slight awe at the supernaturalness of it. By the look on Eric's face, the vampire was well aware of what Sam found fascinating. He opened his legs, allowing Sam to settle between them properly. The room had gone strangely silent.

'No more,' Eric warned. Sam nodded. He remembered what Eric had said about his blood, and he didn't want this to be about that. With Ruby it had always really been about blood, but this was so far from that, Sam considered them different acts entirely. 'Are you going to fuck me, or will I have to settle for a hand-job this time as well?' Sam's eyes narrowed at the small taunt. He gave a experimental thrust, sliding their groins together. Eric hissed. 'I don't require preparation.' That got Sam going, in more ways than one.

He couldn't control himself, but he knew he didn't have to, and that made him lose even more control. He took the vampire with one hard thrust. Luckily, Eric couldn't break, even if Sam tried.

Sam gasped and Eric laughed, a breathless and incredibly satisfied laugh. 'That's it,' he groaned. More than anything perhaps, Sam loved the fact that he had lean into up to kiss Eric, when he would usually have to bend down. He loved how Eric wrapped those long legs around his waist and rocked with him. He loved how he had easy access to that silky smooth, white expanse of chest. He loved the fact that Eric was so big, just like him, all 6.3 feet of him. The fact that Eric seemed to enjoy all of it just as much, and that they both knew it, made it intoxicating.

'Harder, come on, you can do better,' Eric growled. Sam made the bed rock in response.

Despite the roughness, it was definitely the most intimate Sam had felt with someone since Jess.

Eric arched a little and Sam sucked on the expose neck. By now Sam was slick with sweat, but Eric was dry as always, smooth and cold once more, but very much alive. Eric's mouth fell open in a silent scream and Sam realised the vampire was orgasming, dry. He pressed his forehead to Eric's chest and finished with a few erratic thrusts, gasping for breath by the end. His head felt heavy, his thoughts blank. He pressed his heated cheek to the cold chest, cooling down.

'Best this century, I think,' Eric commented after a few silent moments. Annoyingly, Eric wasn't out of breath, which was also completely logical when you thought about it. Sam, however, felt properly exhausted and sated.

'Your pillow talk could use some work,' Sam mumbled into the chest he had decided to use as a pillow for the foreseeable future. He didn't care if it was hard. He did rearrange himself so they were both more comfortable.

'I'm not the most romantic of vampires.'

'You'll do,' Sam managed to murmur before falling back to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

'You go round back,' Sam whispered.

'Usually, I would agree, but in this case we might be at an advantage with a frontal assault. They won't expect it,' Eric argued. They were parked in the car across the street from the picture-perfect suburban house. It looked quiet, too quiet. There had been demon omens around town. After checking things out, Sam had concluded it was foot-soldier demons having a "good" time. They'd seen more and more of these types of situations ever since the hell-gate opened. Not all the demons were working with Lilith; some of them were just glad to be out.

'Look, we've got a system,' Sam huffed. They had, sort of, even if they'd only been hunting for a couple of weeks. Sam went in first, got them distracted, and then Eric showed up – usually scaring the crap out of the creatures if they realised just how powerful a vampire he was.

They had ganked a shape-shifter, a weird water-demon creature, and a good share of ghosts, and they had done it fast. Eric seemed content to follow Sam's lead on hunting, since he didn't know the procedures, but once they were in a fight, Sam felt small for the first time in anyone's presence.

Eric was so fast it wasn't even cool, it was just downright scary. With ghosts it didn't always help, since they could be just as fast if they were strong and angry enough. Most creatures, though, wouldn't stand a chance.

They avoided vamp-counties and all signs of vampirism. After everything Sam had seen in his life, the fact that vampire-cases were now left to regular law-enforcement was the weirdest. Besides, Eric seemed to want to stay away from his own kind.

Demons, however, were a first for them.

'The ability to adapt-' Eric began, but Sam cut him off, knowing exactly what the vamp would say.

'You just don't want me in there alone with demons,' Sam blurted out. The air in the car seemed to compress. Sam didn't like to talk about the days in the cabin, or Ruby. Eric had let him avoid the subject.

'I have every faith in you,' Eric said so seriously that Sam looked at him. The vampiric eyes were shining with more than their usual intensity. Sam realised no one had said something like that to him since- hell, he couldn't remember the last time anyone said they had faith in him. He looked away to hide his reaction. 'But I also don't want you to tempt yourself unnecessarily. Your justifications make you more vulnerable than most.'

'My justifications?'

'You wanted to be stronger to save lives. That's what you told yourself.' Sam nodded in acknowledgement. 'But these things, in some ways, are true. The demon blood did make you stronger, just not in the way that you should want. How many addicts do you know who can say that of their addiction? This makes it more dangerous, more tempting.'

'I'll be fine,' Sam insisted. Eric got out of the car abruptly and Sam did the same. Their eyes met over the hood.

'All right then,' Eric said softly. 'We do it your way.' Eric took the knife while Sam took the sawed-off. He would shoot them, distract them, and Eric could swoop in and slit their throats. 

Sam's plan, it turned out, wasn't one of his best.

XXX

'You need blood,' Sam said, supporting the vampire as they limped their way to the car. The house they left behind was a blood-bath. Sam was surprised he had gotten away with just bruises. His ribs might have gotten a close-call, but he didn't think anything was broken. Eric had been amazing, but the last demon-bitch had stabbed him deep and dragged the butcher's knife across his abdomen. Eric had stabbed her neck at the same moment, and then held himself together, literally, before his guts spilled out. Sam had rushed and pulled out the knife from the bitch, turned sharply and, through sheer luck, caught the last stampeding demon right in the chest.

For half a second he had watched the blood spray with fascination, a sudden yearning overwhelming him, but then Eric had fallen to his knees and all thought of demon blood was gone.

'I think there's a six-pack left in the trunk.' They stocked up on True Blood wherever they came across it. Sometimes locals found Eric alluring and even bought him a drink, watching fixedly as the vampire drank it. Sam didn't like those places much, so mostly they just stocked up and moved on. 

Sam got the passenger door open and helped Eric in. The wound was closing, but slowly. It was a miracle the useless guts hadn't dropped to the kitchen floor. Sam grimaced at the sight. Eric was always pale, but now he was pure white, with the red blood everywhere putting his skin in stark relief.

'Jesus, you sure it'll be enough?' he asked even as he hurried back to get the six-pack. He opened the first bottle and handed it over. Eric grimaced at the taste.

'Maybe I'll need something warmer to get the taste out of my mouth,' Eric mumbled. Sam got behind the wheel and drove. Eric managed to drink the rest of the six-pack, pouring it down his throat one after the other.

Sam didn't ask if he needed more. He didn't want to think about Eric drinking from some random stranger.

The drive back to the motel was silent. He helped Eric inside and onto the bed. The vampire groaned. Sam pried the red hands away from the wound and found the hole almost closed up.

'Will you be all right?' he asked.

'I need more,' Eric gasped. 'Thirsty.' Sam frowned, but made his decision. He lay down beside the vampire and leaned over, exposing his throat. The reaction was immediate. Eric sunk his teeth in, more deeply than ever before. Sam gasped, bracing himself on the headboard. Eric drank, and drank. Sam almost asked him to stop, when suddenly Eric let go and relaxed back into the bed.

'No more, get away from me,' the vampire begged. Sam retreated quickly, one hand going to his neck, but the bite wound had been closed. He dragged a chair to the side of the bed and sat, staring.

Eric's eyes were squeezed shut, blood lined his lips, and the rest of him was still covered in his own blood. The reminder that Eric wasn't invincible sat cold and hard in Sam's gut. What if the bitch had slit his throat instead, maybe all the way?

'Are you all right?' Sam asked, feeling useless. With Dean there had been stitches to do, alcohol to pour and drink, and maybe a manly pat on the back to say "glad you're not dead." What was the procedure with a vampire?

'Still thirsty,' Eric wheezed. He sat up slowly. 'But I'll handle it.' He paused once he had his feet on the floor to gather himself. Sam clenched his jaw. 'I'll be back tomorrow night.' Eric heaved himself up and went to the door. He looked a mess, but he walked in a straight line. Sam rose, feeling frustrated, but knowing he shouldn't say or do anything.

'You're just going to find some random person?' The words spilled out. Eric paused, but didn't turn back.

'I'll be back tomorrow night,' he repeated and left. Sam fell into the chair, exhausted, bruised and covered in blood from himself, demons and a really annoying vampire.

XXX

Sam drove all day despite his bruises and hurt ribs. He had to do something to distract himself. Unconsciously, he headed in the direction of Bobby's. His mind drifted back to when he had called the man for the first time since Eric had saved him. He hadn't been looking forward to that particular conversation...

_Flashback_

Sam felt guilty as hell for not calling Bobby during that last week with Ruby. He hadn't been able to call during his detox, but he still felt awful about that too. He knew he had to introduce Bobby to Eric, somehow. The idea made hysterical laughter bubble up, though the sheer terror underlying it kept it down. When they had successfully skipped town after their first hunt, Sam had bit the bullet and called. Eric was going to be sticking around, and that meant he had to explain some things.

'Hello?' Sam wasn't sure how to judge that particular hello, but he thought maybe Bobby didn't sound too angry. Or maybe he hadn't checked the called-id.

'Hey, Bobby, it's Sam.'

'You got a lot of nerve calling here with a "it's Sam." Where the hell have you been, boy!' Sam sighed, glad Bobby was yelling. If he had been silent that would have meant real anger.

'I'm sorry, Bobby,' Sam said. He sat down on the motel bed, elbows on knees.

'You bet your ass you're sorry.' Bobby sighed and Sam really hoped Bobby would forgive him. 'You okay?' Sam sighed in relief.

'I'm... good, actually,' Sam said, surprising himself.

'Really?' Bobby sounded more than a little skeptical.

'Yeah, I'm getting better. I'm hunting with someone.'

'Who?' Bobby asked, clearly surprised.

'His name is Eric. We've known each other a while, before... a few months before Dean-... He showed up recently and really saved my ass. He's a good guy.'

'Eric, huh? This hunter have a last name?'

'Northman, but he hasn't been hunting that long.'

'You're hunting with a rookie?' Bobby asked incredulously.

'He's good, Bobby,' Sam told him seriously. 'He's strong and fast and probably smarter than me.'

'Sounds dreamy,' Bobby said sarcastically, causing Sam to snort a laugh. Bobby didn't know how right he was.

'I wouldn't be able to call you if it wasn't for him.' That silenced Bobby.

'Well, I guess I owe him one,' the old hunter said gruffly. 'You be careful, Sam, and for God's sake stay in touch.'

'I will, I swear.'

'And bring this Eric by when you get the chance.'

'So you can grill him?' Sam asked, smiling even though the thought of the two in a room together was more than a little terrifying.

'So I can thank him.' Sam didn't get a chance to say anything else before Bobby hung up.

_End flashback_

By the time the sun went down Sam was holed up in a cheap motel by the side of the interstate. He hadn't even glanced at the local newspapers of the towns he had passed by. He was on edge, waiting.

Finally, Eric walked in, without knocking. He took one look at Sam and rolled his eyes.

'I bought True Blood,' Sam said. Was that a peace-offering? He didn't know himself. He nodded towards the fridge. Luckily, there was a microwave in the room too. Eric fixed himself a bottle, though by the look of him Sam didn't think the vampire was particularly thirsty. Sam could tell from more than just the slightly less pale face. Eric had drunk his fill last night and looked much better. He wore new clothes too; a black t-shirt, brown leather jacket, and tight jeans. He looked edible, though Sam cringed at the phrase the moment he thought it. He didn't want to get distracted. Eric sat by the table and took a small sip. Sam stayed on the bed, glad for some distance.

'So, are we gonna talk about it?' Sam asked tensely.

'I fail to see the point.' Eric's voice was flat and lifeless, his focus on the window, but Sam didn't think the vampire was studying the occasionally passing car.

'You're not even gonna tell me who you drank from last night?'

'Sucking blood from a person's neck without their consent is, in your world, morally wrong no matter who the person is, so talking about it, like you Americans love to do, is pointless.' Now Eric's voice held a bit of a warning edge to it, but Sam ignored it.

'So all that crap about there being two kinds of vampires, that was what?' Sam asked. 'To shut me up?'

'No, that still holds true, for vampires, not for you.' Sam threw his hands up in frustration.

'Can't you just-'

'You knew what I was from the first,' Eric cut in. He stared at Sam with hard eyes, forcing the hunter to look away first. Sam felt more than heard Eric get up and come over to the bed. He paused, gazing down at Sam, who finally looked up to meet the almost sad eyes.

'I know what you are,' Sam said.

'Then discussing the subject is pointless.'

'But you could have drunk more from me, or True Blood-'

'I don't want blood to come between us,' Eric almost shouted the last bit and Sam startled a little. He had never witnessed Eric angry like this. The vampire shrugged off his jacket, and crawled slowly onto the bed. Sam stretched out automatically, used to the intimacy now, but still a little apprehensive about Eric's mood. The vampire moved up until he straddled Sam, hands on either side of his head.

'True Blood can sustain me,' Eric admitted, his voice reasonable and calm once more. 'But I wasn't exactly in a state to buy some last night. Besides, it tastes like horse blood when cold.' They both fell silent for a moment before Eric leaned down. The kiss was soft and cold, like most of Eric's kisses. Sam opened his mouth in invitation and Eric took it.

Sam felt a strange surge of protective feelings towards Eric. The old viking wanted him, not his blood. He wanted their relationship to be something more. Could a monster want that? Then again, if Eric was evil, he was certainly well matched with Sam. He silently and mentally let the matter drop and accepted that Eric would do what he had to in a survival situation, just like Sam.

'I want you,' Eric whispered as if he had heard Sam's thoughts. Sam groaned as the cold hands snaked up his shirt. He knew Eric was probably trying to distract him a little, but it hardly mattered when he had decided to let the matter drop. Eric quickly undid Sam's fly and slipped his hand inside, drawing a gasp from his human lover. 

Sam grabbed the pale face and kissed the cold lips hard. When next they broke apart they got their clothes off with much more practice routine than their first encounter. They didn't spare a look at each other's naked bodies; they were much too familiar with them now. They clashed together, rolling on the bed so they almost tumbled off. Sam huffed a laugh at their loss of control with each other. It was always the same: it started rough just like Sam liked, but by the time they reached the height of passion, Eric was dragging things out. A fucking tease of a vampire, that's what he was.

'It's my turn,' Eric growled, using his teeth to tease Sam's neck. He took Sam's wrists and held them against the bed, trapping the human underneath him.

'Well, I don't break easily,' Sam breathed, 'but I can break, unlike you.' Eric let go of one hand and touched his fingers to Sam's cheek. His eyes glowed with some fierce emotion Sam couldn't identity. It made his heart jump, though.

'Do you trust me?' Eric whispered the question, a mere whiff of breath, but Sam heard him. He swallowed and nodded without hesitation. A slow, wicked smile spread across Eric's face and for a moment Sam wondered if he been caught in the spider's net. His Adam's apple bobbed. Eric watched it, then went to work. 'Keep your hands there,' he said, slipping down Sam's body, leaving his hands above his head, unbound. Sam shifted slightly, his heart rate speeding up. Eric sucked in him with absolutely no gag reflex. One of Sam's favourite things about him, though he would never say it out loud. 

Sam wanted to reach down, but for some reason the act of obeying Eric was even more thrilling. He bucked his hips, and Eric let him. He teased him mercilessly, making him do most of the work opening himself up by pushing down on his fingers. 'Come on,' Sam sighed more than once. 'Enough or I'm gonna-' 

Eric was over him in the next instant, hefting Sam's legs round his waist and pushing in, his mouth opening in pleasure. Sam's back arched and his eyes rolled back into his head. Eric touched his chest, hand gliding over the sweaty muscle as if memorizing the contours. Sam moved his hips urgently in an encouraging motion, and Eric braced himself on the headboard and started thrusting. 

The rhythm, the gasping, the constant hammering closer to their peak - it all seemed to go on forever. Sam always wondered if vampires lasted longer, but how Eric managed to make him last longer was a mystery. He had kept his hands above his head, but now had to grip the headboard to keep from touching himself. Eric leaned down and thrust harder, getting a good angle on him. Sam cried out. The vampire kissed and nipped at his chest and neck, sucking the skin. 'Now, please-' But the rough part was over, Eric was beginning to drag things out, driving Sam desperate. 'Fuck you, seriously,' Sam breathed, half-laughing. He bucked his hips, but that hardly helped. Eric pushed him down, holding him steady and making him wait for it. He came suddenly, and felt Eric thrust even deeper as he finished, gasping. Sam loved it when he gasped, or any sound of need from the vampire. Eric was so quick he could pull out before he collapsed. A good perk, Sam thought.

XXX

'That tickles,' Sam said, his laugh turning to a gasp as Eric's teasing kisses turned into a teasing scraping of teeth. 'Hey, are vampires ticklish?' Sam looked down at the vampire currently working his way across Sam's taunt chest. Sam had gone to sleep in the middle of the day, as usual, and been woken up by a nice blowjob. Eric hadn't gotten off yet, though, so they weren't nearly done.

'I'm not,' Eric answered rather curtly as if he thought the question was stupid. Sam grinned.

'I bet you are.' Eric bit down almost hard enough to break the skin and Sam groaned as Eric started teasing him with his long, cold fingers as well. Sam had come to love those cold fingers. They made everything that much more exhilarating. Not to mention the fact that Eric was cold inside, as well as out.

The phone rang, making Sam groan out of frustration. Eric withdrew his fingers quickly, propping his head up with one hand. Sam reached for his phone on the nightstand and flipped it open.

'Hey, Bobby,' he said with strained enthusiasm. He gave Eric a look as if to say "get off me, I don't want to be naked and talking to Bobby." Eric just smiled serenely back, making Sam roll his eyes. 'No, we haven't got another case yet.' Eric reached out with his other hand and traced a finger across Sam's stomach. Sam batted him away, trying to concentrate on what Bobby was saying. 'Well, maybe a day and half's drive, but-' He closed his eyes. 'Sure, no, yeah, of course.' He batted at Eric's wandering hand again. 'Yeah, see you.' He hung up and tossed the phone back to the nightstand, and sighed back into the bed.

'You knew taking the last case would bring us close enough for him to insist on us coming,' Eric murmured. Sam threw an arm over his eyes. The vampire contemplated the wide expanse of skin in front of him, so much darker than his own skin. It was so warm, it was like he could feel the sun still warming it. 

'I know,' Sam sighed. 'You don't have to. I can make up an excuse.' Eric traced the lines of the stomach muscles, which twitched nicely in response.

'I don't mind,' he answered. Sam removed his arm and tilted his head down to stare at his pale lover. Eric easily read the look. 'I don't,' he insisted. 'It's not like I've never heard an insulting word from mortals about what I am. If you want to tell him, then I can easily withstand the abuse, and any attempts to kill me,' he added, only half-jokingly. Sam snorted, his head falling back down onto the pillow.

'Yeah, I'm betting about three attempts before I get him to hear me out, and then another one after he's listened to my explanation. Then he'll just tell us both to get the hell out.' Eric shifted a bit further down. He grabbed Sam's hips and pulled the hunter to a good position so he could reach his prize. Sam made an appreciative noise as Eric went back to their original goal from before Bobby interrupted.

'I'll head out tomorrow morning. You can follow, if you want,' Sam decided with a pleasurable sigh as Eric expertly prepared him, though he didn't need much these days. Their familiarity was just as delicious, Sam had concluded, as their original excitement at the unknown. Eric bit a hip while he made Sam spread his legs.

Sam liked everything they did together, even when they were both banged up and too tired for much activity. Though nothing turned him on like when Eric let him throw the vamp against the wall or onto the bed, far harder than a normal human could handle.

Eric kissed and licked his way up Sam's torso, grabbing the long legs as he went to urge them into position. Sam obliged instantly, wrapping his legs around that slim waist. Their lips met, hot meeting cold, as Eric sank in gratefully. Sam gave a deep moan of satisfaction. He'd already come only a few minutes ago, but he knew Eric could last just as long as Sam needed, and he never needed long when Eric decided to speed things up. 

Sam was sweaty already. It was just the way his body worked, but Eric didn't seem to mind that. His hands slid over Sam's shining chest, his tongue lapped at Sam's throat, licking up to suck at an earlobe. Sam bucked with a gasp, and then soon after that they were lost. Eric sped up and let go, and they both forgot who was in control.

As Sam caught his breath afterwards, Eric sat up against the headboard. Sam always thought Eric looked like an old movie star in those moments, and thought the only thing missing was a cigarette. He never said this, though.

'Remember to eat before you leave,' Eric said. Being on a rather odd schedule, Sam sometimes forgot when to eat. He smiled at Eric's comment.

'Yes, Mom.' Eric rewarded his sarcasm with a bite to the shoulder, not breaking the skin. Sam pushed the vampire away with a laugh and got up to shower. His nervousness over the phone call was gone from his system.

XXX

Eric had called when night had fallen and asked where Sam had gotten to. Sam had made good time and so they drove the rest of the way together. They would arrive late, but that wasn't unusual for hunters. It wasn't an attempt to trick Bobby or anything, Sam insisted. Bobby was too good not to spot what Eric was before the vampire had climbed the porch steps. In the end, Sam realised the only way to do this was out in the open.

So they were both in the car when they drove into Bobby's salvage yard. The lights were on and the man himself came out onto the porch just as Sam killed the engine. He glanced over at Eric, and was pretty sure he had the exact same expression on him, though the vampire was better at hiding it. Sam could see it, though: apprehension.

Sam got out first and went straight for Bobby, meeting the guy at the bottom of the steps.

'It's good to see you Sam,' Bobby said sincerely as they hugged. Sam found himself relieved to see the old hunter again. For a moment all the nervousness drained away and he was just glad.

'You too, Bobby,' he said, patting the man on the back as they parted, both smiling. Sam watched as Bobby looked towards the Impala and knew the exact moment Eric was spotted. Bobby was curious, but Sam saw he hadn't pegged Eric for a vampire, yet.

'This is Eric Northman,' Sam decided the only way to play it was normal. He gestured towards his hunting partner. 'He's turning out to be a great hunter.' Eric rounded the car and came towards them, and closer to the light from the lamp by the door. 'He's saved my ass more than once now.'

'So you said,' Bobby commented with an odd tone, assessing the newcomer with a hunter's eyes. They narrowed slightly as Eric stepped up to them, hand outstretched.

'A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Singer,' Eric said with the suaveness that Sam usually kinda envied. He didn't now, though. It sounded out of place in Bobby's yard. 'Sam's told me all about you.'

'He has, has he?' Bobby said dubiously. He took the hand and shook it. Sam had wanted Eric to drink from him in the car before they arrived, so the vampire wouldn't be so noticeably cold, but Eric had refused. Bobby didn't comment on it, though. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Bobby turned abruptly and stalked back inside. 'Sam, a word in private,' he almost growled. Sam send Eric a look of slight panic, but Eric just turned back to the Impala and leaned against it.

Bobby rounded on him the moment Sam closed the door behind them.

'Are you a goddamn idjit, kid?' Sam sighed at Bobby's tone. He had known this wouldn't be easy.

'I know what you're going to say,' Sam began, lifting his hands in a placating manner, and putting on his best "please trust me" look.

'Oh, I've got all kinds of stuff I wanna say,' Bobby half-yelled. 'First is: are you a goddamn idjit?'

'He saved my life, he's not like-'

'So help me God, if you say he's really some misunderstood old soul, I'll shoot you myself!'

'If you could just hear me out,' Sam pleaded. Bobby suddenly rushed forward, grabbed Sam's collar and pulled him forward. Sam was confused for a moment before he realised Bobby was looking at his throat. He pushed the old hunter away, a little more violently than intended.

'He is not feeding on me,' Sam growled. 'It's not like that.' _I'm not a fangbanger,_ was what he really said, but clearly neither of them wanted to use that term. Besides, technically, that's exactly what Sam was. He was fucking a vampire, and sometimes he let that vampire drink from him. 

'Then what the hell is it like, Sam?' Bobby shook his head in shocked confusion. 'Why the hell would you hunt with what you're suppose to be hunting?'

'We don't hunt vampire anymore,' Sam pointed out.

'Don't feed me that equal-rights bullshit!'

'It's not bullshit!' They were in full-scale yelling mode now. 'We let vampires go long before the Great Revelation if we knew they fed on animals. Even Dean-'

'Dean might have let a few vegan-vamps walk away, but he sure as hell wouldn't consider-' Bobby seemed so angry he was at a loss for words. 'THIS!'

'You don't know what Dean would say about this,' Sam said, his voice quiet again as he controlled his emotions. He hated thinking about Dean, much less say the name out loud.

'If your brother could see you now, he'd be-'

'What?' Sam demanded, advancing instinctively to intimidate with his height. Bobby just gave him a disgusted look that pierced Sam's heart. 'You don't know what he'd say, and you know why? Because Dean is dead.' Jesus Christ, Sam hadn't known it would hurt that much to say it. He felt stinging behind his eyes.

'So you replace him with a vampire?' Bobby asked in appalled wonder.

'Eric is nothing like Dean, and what we have together is nothing like what me and Dean had,' Sam said through clenched teeth.

'What you have together?' Bobby's eyes widened. 'Jesus Christ, Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?' Sam let his head fall, hiding the tears that he knew would fall at any moment. A part of him had hoped Bobby was more open-minded, but maybe it had nothing to do with open-mindedness. Maybe it was all about hitting too close to home. Lots of people could be open-minded enough to let people do what they wanted behind closed doors, but if it turned up in the family, the tune changed.

'I was in a bad place, Bobby,' Sam confessed. 'I was working with Ruby.' He didn't let Bobby get a word in, but he heard the sharp intake of breath. 'She convinced me I needed to be strong to kill Lilith, and I need to kill her. It was the only thing I could think about, all the time.' He took a breath to steady his voice. 'But she was manipulating me. Hell, she was enslaving me, slowly. Eric showed up one day- I hadn't seen him in over a month- and he killed her. Just like that. I was pissed at him first. I wanted to kill him, but when she was gone...' Sam couldn't say he'd been drinking her blood. He couldn't confess that. One major confession was enough for one day. 'Eric helped me, more than you can imagine. And I've known him for a while now. He's saved me before. Hell, he saved Dean.'

'When?'

'We were down in a place called Bontemps,' Sam explained, closing his eyes to try to gather his thoughts. 'Dean got kidnapped by a group of vampires. Eric owned a local vamp-bar and I went to look for Dean there. Eric took me straight to them and distracted them while I got Dean out. Later that night he came to the motel to check on us. I guess that's when all of this really started...' Silence met this statement. Sam finally looked up and couldn't read the expression on Bobby's face. The hunter suddenly walked past Sam to the front door. The younger hunter followed with no small amount of trepidation.

Eric was just where they had left him, leaning against the Impala. He looked up at them, his face betraying nothing. Bobby came down the steps and studied the vampire for a few moments.

'What the hell do you want?' he asked.

'Sam,' Eric answered, honestly. It made Sam cringe outwardly, though his heart gave a ridiculous little flutter. The honest, yet disturbing answer shocked Bobby into silence for a few moments.

'For what, exactly? What do you mean?'

'I love him.' Sam's eyes probably widened just as much as Bobby's at that statement. It was said so matter-of-factly, however, that neither hunter really knew what to do except to accept it. Bobby blinked slowly, twice.

'You love him? A vampire in love with a hunter? What is this, a romance novel?' 

'Even though I'm immortal, I don't wait around for that idealised perfect scenario,' Eric explained calmly. 'We are a mismatch, but what works, works. I'm also old enough to recognise my feelings, and I have no reason to ignore them, nor have I the will to feel ashamed by them.'

'That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard,' Bobby pronounced. Sam's face fell. Eric's calm, yet strangely passionate speech sounded like it could have worked.

'If you want some sort of promise that I won't hurt him,' Eric replied. 'I don't feel like giving it. It's pointless anyway since you won't take a vampire's word. I have already told Sam I'm staying for as long as he wants me to stay. The question is, do you want him to stay?'

Sam held his breath, wishing he could see Bobby's face. Eric stared at the old hunter with a quiet, challenging look. Finally, Bobby turned once more and headed back inside. Sam took a few steps to start to follow, to ask what Bobby had decided, when the old hunter stopped just outside the door. Without turning, he told Sam gruffly:

'Come back in the morning. When it's light.' With that he went in and banged the door shut. Sam stared at it for a moment, unsure what the reaction meant. He looked over to Eric, who shrugged in response. Sam went back to the Impala and they both got in. He felt numb. On the drive to the nearest motel for a few hours sleep, Sam found he only had one question about the encounter.

'So... you love me?'

'Don't,' Eric said. 'You mortals always get worked up over the littlest thing. I said it, you heard it, end of story.' A smile tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth, and he couldn't help but reply:

'No chick-flick moments, got it.'

'I told you, I'm not a romantic vampire.' Sam nodded, eyes on the road, but now he was grinning.

XXX

You would think waking up in your own grave after a 40 year stay in hell would be a relief, but it wasn't. Oblivion would have been a relief.

In hell Dean was never alone. There was always either someone there- Alastair, a lower-ranking demon, or his own victims- or he could hear screams not far off. It was never silent in hell. In fact, Dean doubted most of the demons even knew the meaning of the word.

In the box, it was silent as, well, the grave.

It freaked him out more than he'd ever admit to anyone, but that same fear gave him the strength to push his way out.

Getting back to Bobby, to someone human and breathing and normal, still wasn't a relief. It meant he truly was out of hell. Strange that such a thought should scare him, but it did. Bobby did the tests, twice, and then Dean could finally ask what he wanted to know:

'Where's Sam?' Dean took the offered bottle Bobby handed him, and watched the old hunter carefully as he sat down opposite at the kitchen table.

'He's... well, he's pretty good.' Bobby looked almost surprised to say it, and Dean frowned. Somehow, that wasn't the answer he had been expecting. He didn't want his brother to still be grieving for him, but he had thought Sam would be a little worse off than "good".

'Good?' Dean asked for clarification. Bobby nodded, took a long swig of his beer and sighed.

'I admit, I was worried at first. He disappeared right after we buried you. Didn't call, didn't answer when I called. I got in touch with him once and he said to stay away from him. He sounded bad, and drunk. I thought he'd fallen into some deep shit and I was right, but then a few weeks later he called me out of the blue to apologise.' Dean thought that first part sounded a lot more like the destructive tendencies all Winchesters had whenever loss visited them. He was so engrossed in imagining what his stupid little brother had gotten himself into, he almost missed the next part.

'He's hunting with someone.'


	6. Chapter 6

_'He's hunting with someone.'_

The words made the bottom drop out of Dean's stomach. He shook his head to clear it, for obviously he had heard wrong, right?

'Come again?'

'He's hunting with someone,' Bobby repeated, a little slower as if he really thought it would take a while before it sunk in, which just might be the case considering Dean just stared at him dumbly.

'Hunting,' Dean said slowly. 'With someone?' He should be glad. A part of him really wanted to be happy his brother not only kept going, but had someone to watch his back. Then again, another part of Dean didn't trust that his brother could find someone worthy of watching his back. Sam was too trusting. He had replaced Dean in four months. That... stung.

'I know what it sounds like,' Bobby admitted, and Dean could see the sympathy in the old hunter's eyes. The man knew exactly what Dean was feeling, damn him. Dean looked away. 'But I think this guy is good for Sam, much as it pains me to admit it.' Bobby sounded a little bitter and Dean looked back curiously. Who was this guy? Bobby clearly didn't like him, but had somehow reluctantly accepted him.

'Who is he?' 

'His name's Eric, but I think you should find out the rest for yourself.' Now Dean was even more curious, and worried. 'He's a good hunter though, and he saved Sam's life.'

'You trust him?' Dean asked.

'I...,' Bobby seemed to really think about his answer, which Dean appreciated. 'I trust he'll do anything to keep Sam safe. Beyond that...' he shook his head. 'I don't know him well enough.' Dean nodded to this. He had to see his brother, now.

'Where are they?'

'A hunt over in Detroit,' Bobby said. 'If we go now we might get there before they move on.'

'You're coming?' Dean asked.

'You think I'm going to let you show up at your brother's motel room without someone to tell him you're not a shape-shifter or demon?' Bobby asked. 'Hell make you stupid, boy?' Dean rolled his eyes but accepted what Bobby was saying. The hunter called Sam, got the location so fast Dean didn't even have time to feel bad for not being able to talk to Sam right away, and headed out in Bobby's car. 

XXX

The motel was a four story building that should have been condemned. The neon sign outside was missing the "o".

Sam heard the knock on the door, but it sounded so far away and he was so tired. He had spent the entire day at the library and then gone hunting after sunset with Eric. After ganking the ghost, they had gone back to the motel for a celebratory fuck. Now they were dosing.

'Someone is here,' Eric whispered. Another knock was heard, louder this time. 'They sound insistent.' Sam responded by tightening his grip around Eric, rubbing his stubbled chin into the smooth chest he was currently using as a pillow.

The sound of the lock being picked made both of them snap to attention. They jumped out of bed, got on boxers and t-shirts. Sam found the knife just as the door opened. The pair tensed, going into fighting positions. Sam almost sagged with relief when Bobby appeared.

'Jesus Christ, Bobby,' Sam said. 'Couldn't you have waited a little? You scared the hell-'

Bobby had stepped to the side, revealing Dean.

Their eyes met almost immediately and Sam was pretty sure his heart had stopped. Dean's eyes shone with the same emotions that were burning within Sam, but it had to be a lie. It had to.

That wasn't Dean. Dean was dead. Dead and in hell.

Sam reacted on instinct and lunged, knife raised.

Eric caught him before he'd even taken a step, arms tight around him, back to chest.

'He's not Dean!' Sam yelled, struggling. 'Eric, let me go! That's not Dean.'

'Perhaps we should let Bobby explain,' Eric said evenly. His eyes were intense and watching, though Sam couldn't see this. All he could see was Dean, whose eyes hadn't left Sam.

'It's him, Sam,' Bobby insisted, coming forward and forcing Sam to look at him. 'I did every test. Every one. It's him.' Sam tried to see the lie in Bobby's eyes, but there was none. His chest felt constricted by more than just Eric's arms. He breathed shakily.

'No,' he said, closing his eyes and leaning back into Eric for support. 'How? How could it be him?'

'We don't know,' Bobby said, glancing at Dean, who had come into the room. 'We thought maybe you had made some deal?' Sam's eyes snapped open at the suggestion. He shook his head, though he didn't admit he had tried several times right after. Bobby nodded his acceptance. Sam pushed against Eric's arms and the vampire let him go. He stumbled slightly forward, eyes once again only for Dean. His brother. Alive.

'It's me, Sam,' Dean said and he sounded exactly the same. Sam hugged his brother tightly, joy and relief coursing through him.

XXX

Dean hugged his brother, breathing in the familiar scents. The smell erased 40 years of hell in the blink of an eye, but only for a few seconds before Sam pulled back, looking him over as if to assure himself that Dean was really Dean.

That was when Dean noticed two things. First, that there was only one bed, not the usual two queens. Second, that the guy standing behind Sam with rather scarily intense eyes looked eerily familiar.

'Eric,' he said and the memories came pouring in: the vamp-club, the barn, the rescue. Sam arguing in the car afterwards about the vamp being an ok guy. The creature was as tall as Sam, only opposite; pale and blond where Sam was tan and brown.

Sam turned to look at the vampire in question. Dean saw them exchange a glance, a meaningful glance that held a whole conversation.

'Why don't I go while you two catch up,' the vampire suggested. Bobby's eyes were darting in between the three others. Sam looked back at Dean, eyes full of apprehension. Dean felt completely off the map. His brain wasn't functioning correctly. He had been sent to some alternate universe, surely? There wasn't a vampire standing right there. Nope, it wasn't happening.

'Dean, I can explain,' Sam began, and Dean's brain switched back on.

'Stop.' He closed his eyes for a moment. 'Please tell me this is some sick joke, or dream or new form of psychological torture they've come up with.' Sam's face fell, eyes at full puppy-dog.

'Dean, if you'd just let me explain-' Jesus Christ, they weren't even dressed properly. Dean turned on his heel and stormed out. He ran down the stairs and out into the night, trying to get a breath in, but it was like his lungs were filled with glass.

A vampire. His brother and a vampire. Together. Hunting and- Dean leaned against the banged up thing Bobby called a car, forehead down on the roof, the cold helping to centre him. But no matter how much he tried not to think about it, one word still branded itself behind his closed eyelids.

Fangbanger.

His brother was a fangbanger and the sickly pale vamp was using Sam. Dean straightened abruptly and went back inside, running up the stairs.

The door was still open from when Dean had stormed out. Inside Sam, Bobby and the vampire were clearly arguing. Bobby had his hands up in a placating manner. Sam and the vampire had put on trousers at least. They all turned as one when Dean appeared. He didn't hesitate. He walked straight inside the room, taking it in as the hunter he was. He spotted the knife Sam had discarded on the dressed, grabbed it and lunged.

'Dean, no!' Sam screamed. Dean swung the knife at the vampire, but it ducked and the knife went straight through air until it stabbed the wall. Bobby and Sam were on him in an instant, Bobby grabbing his waist while Sam wrenched the knife from him.

'Pull yourself together!' Bobby yelled. Sam went to the vampire, standing in front of it to shield the fucker from Dean.

'It's a vampire!' Dean yelled.

'I know that,' Bobby groused, causing Dean's struggles to lessen slightly. 'If you'd just calm down for a second then we can explain.'

'No, there's no way you can explain that,' Dean nodded towards his brother protecting the vampire. 'This is fucked up.' He stopped struggling altogether when he saw the look on Sam's face. Bobby still kept a hold on him.

'I will go,' the vampire announced. Sam turned immediately.

'No,' he said, voice pleading.

'It's better if I go,' the vampire pointed out. Its voice was low and rough with some emotion. Dean couldn't really find it in himself to care, as long as the vampire got the fuck out. He was getting a little sick to his stomach watching his brother staring at the vampire, standing way too close for comfort. 'I will return later.' With that the thing moved so quickly Dean almost didn't see it. Sam stood motionless, staring at the blank space where the vampire had been. He turned back to Dean slowly and Bobby finally released him.

'Dean,' Sam said, voice heavy with meaning which his brother could usually decipher easily.

'You replaced me with a vampire?' Sam rolled his eyes heavenward in desperation.

'No, Dean,' he said tiredly. 'It's not about replacing you. I've missed you so much I-' He swallowed and looked down at his feet. A sign of guilt if there ever was one. 'Will you listen to the whole story? Please?'

'Fine,' Dean bit out, but only because he didn't really have any other option.

'Not to ruin the progress we've made,' Bobby cut in. 'But there is also the matter of how Dean got out of hell in the first place.'

'We know how,' Dean said sharply. 'What else could it be but a deal?'

'I didn't make a deal, Dean,' Sam said.

'Really?'

'Yes,' Sam insisted. 'Look, I tried, all right. I offered any deal the demon wanted, but it didn't want anything.'

'So, you gave up on me and decided to become a fangbanger.' The motel room fell silent at this. Sam's face pinched, his jaw clenching, but Dean couldn't take the word back, because it was true.

'Eric doesn't feed on me. He drinks True Blood,' Sam stated. Dean snorted.

'Yeah, I'm suppose to just believe that.'

'Dean,' Bobby said, a warning in his voice. Dean rounded on him.

'How long have you known?' he asked.

'A while,' Bobby admitted. 'But I believe Sam when he says Eric isn't feeding on him.' Dean shook his head and turned his gaze back to his brother, checking the stupid giant over for any signs. Sam stared back stonily, clearly aware of what Dean was looking for.

'Are you hooked on V?' Dean asked.

'No,' Sam answered at once. Dean sighed. He just wasn't sure if he could believe his brother. What would he have done if Sam had gone to hell and he had been the one stuck here, alone, for four months? Probably go on a hunting spree the likes of which had never been seen, getting himself killed at some point. He gazed sadly at Sam, wondering how his brother could have fallen so far. 'Will you listen to me now?' Sam asked.

'Yeah, sure, whatever.'

'I think I'll leave you two,' Bobby said, a little uncomfortable. 'I'll get a room and take a nap.' He disappeared quickly before the brothers could protest. Dean was left feeling more awkward than he ever had in the presence of his brother. Sam gestured toward a rickety table and two chairs in the corner by the tiny window.

'Can we sit?' Dean sure as hell didn't want to sit on the one bed, so he took a seat. He looked out the window and saw only the brick wall of the next building. Sam sat heavily in the chair.

'So,' Dean said. 'Talk.' Not explain, just talk, because nothing could possibly explain this. Sam sighed.

'Okay,' he said. 'I'll tell you everything. Can you not interrupt?' Dean nodded tightly, gaze fixed on the table. 'You know how I met Eric, so I'll skip that. What you don't know is that Eric started showing up after that-'

'Wait,' Dean interrupted, leaning forward in his chair. 'You were fangbanging before I was dead?'

'I'm not a fangbanger, Dean,' Sam growled. 'It's not about blood sucking for us.'

'Yeah, right.'

'Will you let me talk?' Sam asked, frustrated. Dean waved a hand, and rolled his eyes. Sam continued. 'Eric was the one who got me the information about where Lilith was, not Ruby.' This made Dean's eyebrows rise. 'He risked a lot to get that information. That's why he had to leave his business and hunt with me. He didn't have to do that, but he did.'

'Why?'

'Because...' It was Sam's turn to look out the window. 'We got close. I couldn't help it. You can't control who you're attracted to.' Dean shifted in his seat at the word "attracted". He didn't want to think about that, and he hated how normal Sam sounded when he said it. 'And I have never. Tasted. His. Blood,' Sam stated very slowly. 'It's not about that,' he said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

'Christ, Sam,' Dean said tiredly, rubbing his face and then resting it in the palm of his hands, elbows on the table. 'You know how all this looks, right?'

'I know,' Sam said quietly. 'But...' he took a deep breath and Dean was pretty sure his brother was going to confess something big. 'I think I love him.' Dean went very still. Maybe if he went completely still he'd die and all this would turn out to be some sort of sick demon-induced dream. This had to be Alastair playing with him. He looked up at his brother, who had that stupid pleading look on his face, eyes glistening. Dean knew that was Sam's sincere face. He really wanted Dean to believe him. Sammy, his little Sammy was so far down the fangbanging hole he thought he was in love with the thing.

'You love him?' Dean repeated, the skepticism clear because he couldn't be bothered to conceal it.

'I think so,' Sam said slowly, eyes darting in that way he had when he wasn't entirely sure. 'He's- Dean, he saved me from Ruby,' he confessed in a rush.

'What?' Dean said sharply. He hadn't thought he'd have to heard that bitch's name again.

'Ruby was manipulating me,' Sam explained. 'Eric found me and sent her back to hell. If he hadn't I would have been dead at Lilith's feet by now.' Dean clenched his jaw at the image. He hated Eric for doing what Dean had wanted to do himself.

'And now he's manipulating you right back,' he pointed out, hoping against all hope that Sam would see this, but his brother shook his head.

'No, it's not like that,' Sam insisted yet again. His eyes were still on the verge of tearing up. 'He doesn't ask anything of me. He lets me call the shots, even when he disagrees sometimes. I try to listen to his advice now. He's gotten good at hunting.' Sam was getting lost in his own story, but Dean couldn't bring himself to interrupt for some reason. Sam got a faraway look in his eyes. 'He never complains when I'm being an idiot, or that I cost him his business. He drinks True Blood even though I know he hates the stuff. He said he loved me, to Bobby of all people,' Sam huffed a laugh, staring down at the table. 'But I believe him. He's told me a million times that all I have to do is say the word and he'll be gone. He also promised me-' Dean didn't have to see Sam's face to know that a tear was almost imminent, but Sam clenched his hands and held himself together. 'He promised me that one day when I'm old and dying that he'll say his goodbyes.'

'He's lying,' Dean said, but it sounded hollow even to him. Sam looked up. He reached out and placed a hand over Dean's.

'I missed you,' he said softly. Dean forced himself not to look away. 'At first all I could live for was revenge, with Ruby, and I didn't care if I died trying. I didn't care,' Sam repeated and Dean tried not to imagine his brother that far gone. 'With Eric, I still missed you every single fucking day, but at least things were livable.' Dean pulled his hand away, staring out the window. Sam sounded so sincere it was choking him.

'So you're happier with a vampire than a demon,' he surmised, voice tight and controlled. He heard Sam sigh. It was his "I'm never getting through my brother's thick head"-sigh. Dean decided to ignore it.

'I'm not going to argue that Eric is some saint vegan-vampire,' Sam said. 'He's a thousand years old. I don't think a vampire could stay vegan that long and survive.'

'So he's a pedophile too, nice,' Dean commented just out of spite now.

'Fine, I give up,' Sam said abruptly. Dean's eyes snapped back to him. 'I'm never going to convince you, so what's the point. You're back. That's what's important.'

'If we are ever going to be okay again,' Dean said, leaning forward slightly on his elbows. 'I can't work with a vampire. I just can't. So if you want us hunting together-' He shook his head and then looked Sam straight in the eye. 'If I tell you to dump your little vampire friend,' he cleared his throat uncomfortably. 'Will you do it?' Sam's face pinched and his jaw worked visibly. Dean waited patiently.

'Yes,' Sam bit out. Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. 'If that's what it takes for us to go back to normal, then yes.'

'If we're going to find out what got me out of hell,' Dean pointed out. 'We can't have a third wheel, especially not one that wants to suck us dry.'

'Eric is not-'

'I don't care,' Dean said, rising from his seat. 'I get that you were in a bad place, Sam, I do, but that's no excuse.' Sam looked like he wanted to either yell or cry, Dean couldn't be sure. 'He's a vampire, a killer. Now, we may not officially hunt vampires anymore, but that won't stop me if I see him again, all right?' Sam stared up defiantly for a moment, but then nodded tightly. Dean nodded his acceptance. They had had their issues before; they'd get past this once Sam was off the V he probably was drinking.

'Good.'


	7. Chapter 7

By morning Dean and Bobby wanted to hook up with Pamela to find out if she's heard anything from the other side on who might have busted Dean out of hell. Sam was reluctant to involve anyone else, and also reluctant to leave Detroit. He was pretty sure Dean knew why and couldn't really blame his brother for wanting to hit the road again as fast as possible.

Bobby took his car, and Dean was back behind the wheel of the Impala.

'Man, it feels good to be back on the road,' Dean murmured as he steered his baby carefully. He had taken one look at the iPod on the dashboard and thrown it in the backseat. Sam hadn't been sure what that meant, but he felt he should point out it had been his idea and not Eric's. He had remained silent, though.

'Yeah, everything looks right with the world again,' Sam commented, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Dean was back. Dean was out of hell. Sam kept repeating these words in his head over and over. He should be happy, overjoyed even.

But he wasn't. He was miserable and he felt guilty for feeling that way, which made him feel even worse. He wanted to call Eric to check up on him, but the vampire was probably sleeping. Besides, what would Sam tell him? "Sorry, I skipped town on you the second my brother came back. No hard feelings about the whole dragging you into this and ruining your life, right?"

'So...' Dean said and Sam wondered for perhaps the tenth time that day when the awkwardness would disappear, if ever. 'Any interesting hunts while I was away?' Just like Dean to call a four month stay in hell "being away." He insisted he didn't remember anything, but Sam suspected he was lying.

'Not really,' Sam said. 'The demon population is still high after the hell-gate opened. We've done some research on Lilith, but it's been slow going. Eric-'

'I don't want to talk about the vampire,' Dean cut in harshly, startling Sam, who turned to stare at him, but Dean kept his eyes on the road, hands tight on the wheel.

'He's got contacts,' Sam insisted. Dean rolled his eyes.

'That's really not a point in his favour, Sam.'

'The vampires are much more organised than we ever imagined,' Sam carried on regardless. 'Officially, they don't associate with other supernatural creatures, but everyone knows there's a underground maze of contacts, information and favours being exchanged. In fact, if you really want to find out who got you out of hell, you should ask Eric.'

'Thanks, but I'll take a human psychic over a vampire secret agent any day,' Dean snapped.

'He's already involved,' Sam argued. 'And he's not an "agent". He was a sheriff, but thanks to us he lost that-'

'Forget it Sam!' Dean yelled. Sam snapped his mouth shut, biting back his next argument. 'I told you it's him or me, and you made your choice. We are going to Pamela's and that's that.' Sam closed his eyes and turned his head away. It was just like normal, he reasoned, a little unfairly; Dean called the shots and Sam followed. Only now, he had tasted what a different sort of partnership was like. No, that really wasn't fair. Dean and him had been great together, a real team. He was being selfish.

They drove all day, Sam sleeping the first half. By sunset Bobby called and told them to turn off at the next motel. They'd reach Pam's tomorrow morning.

Dean wasn't letting Sam out of his sight, that much was clear. Sam didn't really mind. He had a feeling Eric would take the hint when he found them gone. Dean didn't go to sleep right away either. He lay on the bed and channel surfed, making comments on how much or how little progress the different TV shows had made.

Sam's phone rang while he was in the bathroom. He threw his toothbrush in the sink and rushed out. He knew Dean was watching him carefully as he fumbled with getting the thing out of his jacket pocket.

'Hello?' he said, having been too quick to check the caller-ID.

'Sam,' Eric's voice was as calm as ever, but Sam could detect a note of worry underneath. 'Where are you?' Sam sat down heavily on the bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he thought of what to say.

'We're on our way to a psychic to see if she knows anything about how Dean got out of hell.'

'I see, a smart move. I have already started investigating the matter,' Eric said, surprising Sam.

'Really? Have you found out anything?'

'Not much yet. I only had enough time to make a few calls last night to some very old friends. I thought I might visit a few nearby tonight...' The way Eric trailed off was more than enough for Sam to understand; Eric wanted a few answers of his own, and Sam wasn't ready to give them. He chanced a look at Dean, who was pointedly not looking now, telling him clearly to stop talking to the vampire.

'Listen,' Sam began, but he didn't know how to finish the sentence. He leaned forward on his left elbow, back to Dean.

'It's all right, Sam,' Eric said.

'No, it's not,' Sam said. 'We just-' Sam tried to think of some excuse. They needed some time alone, just the two of them again, to be brothers? They had to go after Lilith alone, as a matter of family pride? Three's a crowd? Eric would see through them all.

'Don't lie,' Eric said. 'It's never suited you. I'll know when you're in danger Sam. I always know.' The phone went silent and Sam removed it from his ear to check that Eric had really hung up. Call Ended.

'You didn't tell him,' Dean pointed out. Sam tensed. He couldn't look at his brother.

'I didn't need to,' he said. He went back to finish brushing his teeth. No more was said on the matter. 

XXX

Sam left Dean sleeping. It felt eerily like a habit he was too weak to resist returning to. He took the car and drove to the nearest cemetery. Eric had sent him a text to meet him there when the sun was down and he could get away.

The cemetery was old, a speck of green in between the rest of the decaying neighbourhood. Sam strolled up through the gate, passing several rows of headstones as he made his way to the older mausoleums. He went round the back of one, looking around for the tall shadow he was sure would reveal Eric any moment.

Sure enough the vampire stepped into Sam's view from behind a nearby tree. Sam stayed perfectly still as Eric approached. The vampire came to a stop only a foot away. Sam resisted the urge to jump him.

'Hey,' Sam said. Both of them had a natural way of tilting their head slightly forward, a habit from always looking down at other people. This meant that when Sam and Eric looked at each other, they often found themselves staring through their eyelashes. Previously, Sam had sometimes found this amusing, and at other times arousing. Now, he felt Eric's stare like he had at their first meeting.

'You look disturbed,' Eric commented. Sam shifted his weight and glanced off into the night. He always enjoyed the air in cemeteries; clean and pure, yet old and sort of sickly sweet. Right now it just reminded him of the undead. 

'Pamela, the psychic,' Sam explained. 'She tried to see what had pulled Dean out, but it burned her eyes out.'

'I'm sorry,' Eric said. 'She was a friend?'

'Yeah. She's all right, the rest of her I mean.'

'It does confirm the rumours I have heard,' Eric commented. Sam's attention snapped back to him.

'What? What sort of rumours?' 

'There are creatures you have not yet heard of,' Eric explained. 'Creatures that live like slugs at the bottom of a swamp. They are often ignored, yet they hear things. The rumour I heard was not easily extracted. An entity that has the power to pull someone out of hell scares even high-level demons.'

'What is it?'

'The rumour from hell is that an angel fought its way to Dean side and pulled him from the pit.' Sam's throat closed up and his mouth gaped uselessly for a few moments.

'An angel?' Eric nodded. 'Castiel,' Sam whispered. 'Pamela said its name was Castiel.'

'In that case I would check Christian literature for a reference. Angels are well-documented.'

'But I didn't think they existed,' Sam said in wonder.

'To be honest, neither did I,' Eric said uncomfortably. Sam studied the vampire closely, noting the red-rimmed eyes and dry skin. Sam knew Eric's skin better than anyone and could easily tell when the vampire was thirsty.

'When was the last time you fed?' Sam asked, reaching out to touch Eric's cheek to check the dryness. Eric flinched back and Sam's hand stopped in mid-air.

'I'll have a True Blood later,' he said gruffly. Sam let his hand fall. So, Eric had made his own choice. Sam shouldn't be surprised. Why would Eric want to keep meeting like this; behind motel rooms and in cemeteries, just for a few stolen kisses? They had been through that already. They couldn't move backwards.

'I have some in the trunk still,' Sam pointed out. He could tell Eric wanted it immediately, which proved the vampire hadn't been feeding at all. 'Don't be stupid,' he argued. 'Just take some, please.' Eric nodded tightly and they made their way to the car. Sam popped the trunk and found a bottle in his duffle. Eric took it and gulped the contents down quickly. Sam's phone rang.

'Sam, where are you?' Dean demanded. Sam shot a look at Eric, but the vampire was busy getting out another bottle.

'I was hungry,' Sam lied. 'Went to get myself a burger.'

'In my car?' Dean sounded annoyed, and suspicious.

'Sorry, force of habit. What's happening?'

'You shouldn't lie to him,' Eric pointed out, loud enough for Sam to know the vampire wanted Dean to hear.

'Who was that?' Dean demanded. Sam sighed. Damn Eric and Dean. 'You snuck out to see the vampire? What are you, sixteen?'

'Eric knows what got you out of hell,' Sam spit out quick before Dean could yell at him more.

'Why the hell should I believe what a vampire has to say?'

'For Christ's sake, Dean,' Sam yelled in desperation. 'Will you just hear him out? Even if you think I'm just a fangbanger, Eric still has ways of getting information we can never have.' Silence met this rant and Sam wanted to punch Dean's precious car in lieu of not having Dean here to punch.

'Where are you?' Dean asked. Sam took a deep breath to calm down.

'At the cemetery.' Another long silence followed.

'Meet us at the bar we passed on the way into town, Rick's, remember it?'

'Yeah,' Sam sighed. Dean hung up.

'Well?' Eric prompted. Sam slammed the trunk shut and went to get in the driver's seat.

'He said to meet them at a bar. Come on.'

XXX

They found Dean and Bobby at the back of the bar. The place was the sort of place Dean preferred. Low-lighting, an old juke-box no one bothered to turn on in the corner, and clientele that came to drink and nothing more. Bobby nodded to them when the approached, while Dean just watched.

Sam and Eric sat down opposite the pair. A waitress happened to be passing and took Dean's empty glass before asking what the two new guys wanted. Dean ordered another beer. Bobby hadn't finished his.

'A beer for me too,' Sam ordered. She nodded and looked at Eric, who seemed to hesitate for a moment.

'I noticed you had True Blood,' he said, nodding towards the sign behind the bar. The waitress' eyes widened, but not in fear. Sam could already tell she was one of _those_ \- fans, fanatics, whatever you called them.

'Oh, yes, we have, just O negative, though. I've served vampires before,' she boasted. Dean looked like he was having a hard time staying silent.

'Excellent,' Eric murmured in that voice that made any man or woman shiver. Sam didn't like it when Eric used it on others, but he recognised how useful it was. 'If you could heat a bottle up for me I would be very grateful.' She giggled, covered it with her mouth in embarrassment, and hurried off. Eric turned to face Sam, who couldn't help but give him a look. 'What?' he asked.

'Bit over the top,' Sam told him. Eric just shrugged in response.

'Can we get this over with?' Dean snapped. Eric calmly turned his attention to the hunter.

'Your psychic friend's eyes burned out,' he began. 'And she mentioned a name, Castiel. This, combined with what I have heard from my sources, all points to one culprit.'

'Care to share the important part with the class?' Bobby prompted.

'An angel,' Eric revealed.

'You've got to be kidding me,' Dean muttered. He looked to Sam, waving his hand at Eric. 'This is what you wanted me to hear? Fine, I've heard it, it's bullshit, and we're done.' Just then the waitress came back with the drinks. She took her sweet time in putting the bottle of True Blood in front of Eric, leaning down properly to show off her cleavage. Sam tried not to let it bother him. It's not like it was the first time, or the hundredth time for that matter. Dean looked like he was just as annoyed about it as Sam, oddly enough. Once she was gone the three hunters all seem to watch as Eric took a swig of the stuff.

'Not as good as AB, which I seem to have developed a fondness for,' Eric commented softly. Dean's eyes widened. He abruptly rose halfway from his seat, ready to punch, but Sam stopped him with a raised hand.

'He's messing with you,' Sam soothed, and Dean fell back, eyes thunderous. The Winchesters always knew each other's blood type. Sam's was AB negative. Eric knew that too of course, but he hadn't fed on Sam since that night when he was injured. 'Eric, you're not helping.' The vampire put the bottle down hard on the table and leaned forward towards Dean, who of course couldn't back down and so they stared at each other only a few inches apart. Sam really hoped Eric was done teasing for the night.

'Cross-check the name Castiel in Christian texts. I would bet my club on it, if I still had it, that you'll find him. Your friend's eyes burned out because she looked at an angel's true form. I don't know any other creature who does that.'

'Why would a vampire believe in angels?' Dean asked suspiciously, his face a grimace of disgust from being so close to the vampire, but still not backing off.

'I didn't, not literally, but recent events have changed my perception of things.' Dean didn't look like he bought it, but his anger was subsiding as he considered the possibility. 

'Let's just see if we can find the name in angel lore,' Bobby reasoned. 'Before we do the summoning ritual.'

'Bobby,' Dean snapped in warning.

'Summoning ritual?' Sam question, looking between the two hunters. 'You were going to summon this thing without even knowing what it is?'

'We need to know,' Dean snapped.

'And if it burns your eyes out?' Sam argued. 'Or burns you away completely?'

'If it took the time to get me out of hell, it's not going to kill me first chance it gets,' Dean countered.

'A logical conclusion,' Eric commented. Dean jabbed his finger at the vampire.

'Stay out of this,' he ordered.

'No,' Sam declared. 'No, if you're doing something this reckless, then we need all the help we can get. Eric is staying.'

'Then I'm gone,' Dean said, eyes full of warning. Sam shook his head, looking away in disappointment. He would never get through to his brother.

'You're both idjits,' Bobby groused, causing the brothers to look up at him in surprise. 'Dean, doing the ritual without Sam is stupid. Sam, having a-... a person here that not all of us trust is also fairly stupid. You know better, boy. Hunting is a trust game, and I get that you know Eric, but we don't. That's just the way it is.' Sam's face fell at Bobby's infallible logic.

'I have no intention of sticking around,' Eric announced. 'I'm merely here to bring you this information. If you are involved with angels, I don't think you want a vampire anywhere near you.'

'Eric-' Sam began, but the vampire cut him off with a look.

'You'll chose your brother every time,' Eric said quietly, but all three hunters could easily hear him. Sam's jaw worked, but he remained silent. 'And that's predictable, and understandable. I will be keeping an ear on the situation, and probably hunting on my own as I've nothing better to do and it keeps me from staying in the same place for long.' Sam knew Eric didn't like to stay put, as the other old vampires would always be on the lookout for him. 'You can always call when all other options are exhausted.' Eric took one more large swig of the True Blood, dug into his pocket for some money, and got up. He looked down at Sam, seemed to want to say something, but changed his mind and moved towards the door. Sam watched him go with a numbness settling inside him. Eric glanced back once when he reached the door, but only for a moment. Sam could read the look easily. It said: "I'll always know when you're in danger." And then the vampire disappeared into the night faster than any of them could see.

Sam turned back to the table slowly, his eyes coming to rest on the table, but he wasn't really seeing anything. The silence stretched out for at least a minute.

'I'm sorry, Sam,' Bobby said sincerely. 'I know you cared about him.' Sam shook his head, but not to deny it.

'You'll get over it,' Dean said gruffly, the awkwardness apparent. Sam felt slightly better at that, oddly enough, because it showed that Dean actually felt a little guilty. That was something, and Sam clung to it for fear of tearing up like a girl if he didn't. He took a fortifying gulp of beer and put on his business face.

'What's this ritual about?' Bobby and Dean gave him both the same look that said "you sure you just want to sweep this under the rug?" but both also seemed to silently agree it was for the best, and so they began talking.

XXX


	8. Chapter 8

_Episode tie-in with 4.02_

'Dean, please,' Sam said again, watching his brother's face intently. Dean kept his eyes on the road, speeding up to dangerous levels as they raced to get back to Bobby's. It was cloudy and the road was damp. Dean's jaw was set, his eyes steely. Sam knew it was going to be a struggle. He wished he didn't care about what his brother wanted, but once again Eric was proved right: Sam would choose Dean every time; stubborn bastard that he was. There were always moments, however, when Sam knew he had to go against his brother's wishes. 

'I said no,' Dean bit out. 'We've never needed help before and we don't need it now.'

'Bobby might be dead already!' Sam argued.

'He's not,' Dean said, like he somehow knew, but Sam could see the slight twitch that indicated Dean was just as scared as he was. Hunters, good hunters, were dropping dead like flies and they had no baddie to blame it on. Whatever it was, they hadn't hunted it before.

'Whatever this thing is, it's going after hunters,' Sam argued. 'Maybe it'll ignore Eric.'

'You've been trying to convince me your vamp turned hunter ever since I got back, and now you're arguing he's not?'

'He is a vampire,' Sam said seriously, just in case Dean thought he was deluding himself. 'But if any hunter has a chance of surviving this, it's him.'

'Well, which is it Sam?' Dean asked, voice filled with equal measures of tiredness and sarcasm. 'Hunter or vampire?' Me or him, again, was what he meant. Sam looked away, closing his eyes for a moment in frustration.

'Pull over at the next gas station.'

'We don't-'

'We need to take the time and prepare,' Sam snapped. 'We're not showing up at Bobby's without being fully stocked and fully functional.' He needed to regain his focus if he was going to help Bobby. Dean didn't say another word, but pulled over at the next station. Dean decided they needed to fill up anyway. Sam ignored him and went straight for the bathroom.

Once there, he didn't spent any time wondering what Dean was going to say or do, he just took out his phone and called, before he lost his nerve. He leaned against the stall wall that was next to the sink, trying to not look into the mirror for fear of what expression he was wearing.

'Sam?'

'Eric, where are you?' Sam wasted no time. 'How quickly can you get to Bobby's?'

'Why? What's happened?' Sam ignored the worry in Eric's voice and focused on the situation, pretending it was just another case.

'Something is killing hunters. In their homes. And now Bobby's not answering his phone.' The only contact between Sam and Eric since the vampire had walked out had been a text to Eric telling him he had been right about the angel. Castiel had shown himself after they had performed the summoning ritual. He didn't seem to like Sam much, though he hadn't said so directly. Sam also suspected the angel had talked to Dean alone sometime, maybe in his dreams, but the brothers weren't talking about that.

'I'm on my way.' Sam was about to say thanks and hang up so he could get back to the car, when he happened to glance into the bathroom mirror and see someone over his shoulder. Agent Henricksen, who had been dead for quite some time. He looked it too, his eyes sunken and his skin appearing almost dusty, like he had just risen from his grave, but he wasn't a zombie.

'Hello Sam,' the ghost said, for it had to be a ghost- it hadn't come through the door.

'You're dead,' Sam said stupidly, because seeing a ghost in a random gas station bathroom wasn't something even he did every day.

'What?' The phone was still pressed to Sam's ear, but he didn't really hear Eric's voice anymore. 'Sam? Who are you talking to?' Sam didn't have the chance to answer before Agent Henricksen attacked.

XXX

'I'm taking point,' Dean said tensely to the other two hunters. They were stocked up and ready to get the hell out of the panic room and perform the ritual to get rid of the Witnesses. His heart was already gearing up for the adrenaline rush of fighting their way through the ghosts to get to the fireplace in the library. Sam's face was lined with worry and determination, which meant he was actually fairly optimistic they would be able to do this, but there was another emotion flitting across little brother's face as well. Dean hated the fact that Sam's mind wasn't one hundred percent on the situation. And he could just guess where the hell it was sneaking off to at a time like this.

'I need to call Eric,' Sam admitted quietly when he'd had enough of Dean's stare.

'I get that you're worried, son,' Bobby cut in, shotgun in hand, 'but is now really the right time?'

'I called him at the gas station,' Sam confessed, his face going guilty, but not nearly enough for Dean.

'I knew it,' Dean couldn't help but mutter.

'He's on his way, I'm sure of it. I need to warn him not to come,' Sam insisted. Suddenly, a loud bang was heard from upstairs and all three hunter's lifted their gazes to the ceiling, waiting. It had been deathly quiet ever since they had retreated to the panic room.

'I think it's too late,' Dean murmured and opened the door. He took point and moved quietly yet swiftly to the stairs. They shot their way through the ghost that appeared there. Dean didn't want to think about their names and who they had been. If they did that they'd all go crazy, and that's exactly what the witnesses wanted: make you lose your focus for just one second, one hesitation due to guilt, and you were dead. They made sure the hallway was clear before they burst into the library and stopped short. Dean blinked, trying to process the scene in front of him.

A very pale man, a ghost without a doubt, was standing in the middle of the room. He was wearing clothes that almost matched his greyish paleness. He had short, close cut dark hair and eyes to match. Dean could see tattoos coming up from the collar of the loose-fitting tunic. He looked like some cult member about to keel over from the cool-aid.

In front of him Eric was kneeling. Not the kneeling you'd see in some movie set in the middle-ages, but collapsed on his knees in defeat, his head tilted up to the apparition. So much for the witnesses ignoring Eric. The three hunters were rendered speechless from the scene, and they couldn't help but keep their silence when the strange ghost started to speak. It was in a foreign language. If Dean had to guess he would have said Dutch or one of the Scandinavian ones.

XXX

_'How could you leave me?' Godric said, eyes sad and filled with disappointment._

_'You told me to, Master,' Eric tired to explain, but the words were stuck in his throat._

_'You let me burn,' Godric accused. 'You did nothing to stop it. It's all your fault. If you had been a better child to me, I would have wanted to stay with you.'_

_'I know. I'm sorry.'_

XXX

The ghost looked up at the hunters slowly, taking them in one by one. It landed back on Sam, and spoke in English, but he was still addressing Eric. 

'You let me burn. You'd let me burn again, I'm sure, if it meant choosing this human over me.'

'I was ready to burn with you, Master,' Eric answered in English. Dean was pretty sure the vampire was barely aware that they were there. He was only answering in the language he was being spoken to. 'I begged you to let me meet the sun with you.'

'I had only that vile human for company in my dying hours,' the ghost spat harshly down at Eric. 'You failed me.'

'I'm sorry.'

'You can still make it up to me,' the ghost switched its tone fasted than Dean could blink, it's voice going from accusing to reassuring. 'Burn with me, walk with Death again as you were meant to.' It reached out, cupping Eric's face. It was actually Sam's sharp intake of breath that spurred Dean into action. He barged into the room, going straight for Eric, pushing the vamp roughly to the side while he fired off the shotgun straight into the ghost's chest. The last thing he saw was the ghost's enraged face, its hands up like claws before it disappeared.

Sam came running into the room now, going straight to Eric, who seemed well and truly dazed, his eyes even more red-rimmed than usual. Dean swallowed down the pity he felt. Sam cupped the pale face, trying to get the unseeing eyes to focus on him.

'Eric!' Sam shook the vamp a little and Eric finally appeared to see him.

'I'm fine,' he said, clearly lying, but Dean wasn't one to judge when it came to that kind of lie. The vampire quickly came to his feet, shrugging off Sam's help and causing Dean to go back to feeling nothing but hatred for the annoying giant vampire. 'What was that?'

'A ghost,' Sam explained. Eric shook his head, but Sam barrelled on. 'We think it's the Rising of the Witnesses. We've all encountered the ghosts of people we failed to save. It's a sign of the apocalypse...'

Eric blinked several times and Dean secretly enjoyed the fact that he wasn't the only one having trouble with this concept.

'The end of days...' Eric murmured. 'Ragnarok,' he said with a strange accent.

'Yeah, only the Biblical kind,' Sam shrugged. Eric looked up and stared into Sam's face. Dean really, really hated how they were both so damn tall. It was like looking at a wall. And the looks that were being exchanged didn't sit well with him either. 'Eric, who was that?' Sam asked softly, and Dean really wanted to punch Eric for making his brother put on the hurt puppy-dog face. Dean had made it his life's mission long ago to make sure Sam got that face as little as possible, and yes, he failed more times than he succeeded, but it was still his job.

'We can talk this out later,' Bobby cut through the bullshit as usual and went to business. 'You guys, make a circle and shoot anything that moves while I do this damn ritual before we all get killed.' That put a stop to puppy-dogs, and put all of them into hunter-mode. Dean didn't even have the heart to complain that he was technically working with a vampire. Eric was efficient and quick as a fucking cat, a supernatural cat. They readied their weapons and started firing. With the extra gun and ammo Eric had brought, they might just have enough to last them too.

The pale ghost, which Dean now realised had to be a vampire, appeared again right in front of Eric. The vampire hesitated, giving the ghost a chance to speak, once again in English.

'You chose these mortals over me?' it asked, voice full of hurt.

'You are gone,' Eric insisted. 'You left me! You went into the sun!' Dean had to look away at the amount of betrayal that shone in Eric's eyes. The vampire's usually calm and rough voice was now lined with hysteria. Dean knew that kind of pain well enough to be unable to deny the sympathy he was feeling. He dreaded to look at Sam to see how his brother's was holding up. Just then Sam shot the ghost away. Eric didn't even seem to notice, he just stared at the empty space.

The other ghosts proved just as emotionally crippling for the rest of them. By the time Bobby had finally completed the ritual, there were frayed nerves all over. Dean put down his shotgun on the table and rubbed his face. What a night. He glanced over at Eric and Sam, watching the pair. The vampire sat down heavily on the decaying couch, his long legs sticking up like spider legs. It was just the way Sam sat on that couch.

'Was that your... maker?' Sam asked quietly, but both Dean and Bobby heard him, though they tried to ignore it by starting to tidy up the mess the ritual had made. Dean started lining up the weapons and taking stock of how much ammo they had used; nearly all of it, he realised far too quickly, meaning he had nothing to keep him occupied.

'Yes,' Eric sighed. 'But let's not get into this now.'

'I'm sorry,' Sam said, so damn sincerely Dean would probably have wanted to punch Sam if he had been on the receiving end. He caught sight of Eric's fists tightening out of the corner of his eye. The vampire got up suddenly, stalking over towards the entrance hallway.

'I'm going to find a place to rest nearby,' he said curtly, not looking at Sam. 'I'll leave tomorrow.'

'What?' Sam followed the vampire towards the exit, grabbing the bare arm, white as snow. Dean hated how easily Sam did that- just grabbed the arm of a creature that could tear his own out of its socket with barely a twitch. To Dean's surprise the vamp stopped, though he didn't turn to face Sam.

'Nothing has changed. I only came because I felt you were in danger.' Felt? Dean's forehead furrowed. How the hell could- but the answer was obvious, wasn't it?

'Nothing-!' Sam sputtered. He glanced at Dean, obviously saw the look Dean was giving them, and his eyes widened. 'Dean,' he began, but Dean had decided he didn't want to hear another excuse or explanation.

'He can feel when you're in danger?' he asked, trying to keep his anger under control. He knew it wouldn't do him any good. It was much better to play this calm and righteous. He knew this would work best on Sam, though every time he decided to play it calm it always ended up with him yelling regardless. It was just the effect Sam's occasional stupidity had on him.

'Dean, it's not-'

'So much for not being a fangbanger,' the words were spilling out before he could even think of stopping them. No going back now; Dean knew it. A part of him wanted to stop, to think, to assess, and even listen to Sam, but the big screaming voice in his brain said "knock some sense into the kid!" 'I assume that's how he can feel you? He sucked your blood so much you're on his vamp-radar!'

'That is not true,' Eric spoke up, finally turning back to face the room and Dean head on. His earlier sadness was gone. He looked like the scary guy Dean knew every vamp had within them. Vegan vamps were just a fantasy themselves. 'I admit freely that I have tasted Sam's blood-'

'Eric-' Sam tried to cut in.

'But only a few times. And Sam is never going to become a vampire.'

'A few times?' Dean asked, shaking his head at the ridiculous expression. A few times was somehow suppose to make it all better? 'I'm sorry, you only sucked my brother's blood a few times, well, that's okay then.'

'Dean-' Bobby tried to cut in this time.

'Don't tell me you're buying this shit?' Dean asked the man. Bobby's look told him everything. 'Well, fuck, I'm the only sane person left.' He put a hand to his head, sure something had to be leaking out because he was pretty certain he was losing his mind.

'The first time, I was curious,' Eric continued as if he was just describing a trip he had taken somewhere. 'And the few times after that it was to satisfy that curiosity. I quickly realised, however, that your brother's blood holds demon blood.' Everyone went silent at this. Dean looked at the vampire, studying the expressionless face. Sam was standing slightly to the left and behind the vamp, face pinched in guilt and awkwardness. Dean had never considered that a vampire could taste such a thing.

'And what? You don't like demon blood? I thought you were practically related to the bastards.'

'Hardly,' Eric said, a note of warning in his voice that time. 'Vampires despise hellspawn, almost as much as werewolves.'

'Huh,' was Dean's only comment to that.

'The sun will rise soon,' Eric announced. 'I must go.'

'Wait just a minute,' Dean said, still trying to wrap his brain around everything. He had to know one more thing. 'You hate demon blood, which means you don't- what? Like the taste of Sam?' The effect his question had on Sam would have been hilarious in any other situation. From the look on Sam's face it was like Dean had asked if Eric had taken his virginity or something equally embarrassing.

'It's different, powerful, dangerous,' Eric explained. 'I must admit that I do not like the effect it has.'

'So, why are you still here?' Dean asked, genuinely bewildered. For the life of him he couldn't say with certainty that the vampire was lying about the blood, so that left one annoying question: why was the vampire still hanging around? He didn't want to change Sam, he didn't want to drink him- Dean's world was ever so slowly turning upside down. He was at that moment deadly afraid he was going to fall off the end of it, while everyone else waved goodbye. The fact that Eric looked at him like it was the stupidest question he had ever heard didn't help much.

'Because I care for your brother,' he said pointedly, then turned and left in his supernaturally quick way, leaving the three hunters in an awkward silence.

'Now do you get it, idjit?' Bobby finally asked, leaving with a tired shake of his head to get them a few beers. Dean looked at Sam, trying to gauge his brother's mood, but Sam just stared at him, maybe a little hopeful.

'This is...' Dean began, but he didn't know how to finish that sentence anymore. Then he thought of something: '...really fucked up.'

'I know,' Sam at least acknowledged. Just then Castiel appeared, bringing with him a whole new level of fucked up, something Dean hadn't really thought possible.

XXX

After Castiel explained about the 66 seals and confirmed the apocalypse really was scheduled for sometime in the near future unless they did something, he looked at Sam with that strange way he had. Half confused, half accusing.

'I know the vampire was here,' he said. Sam visibly swallowed. 'In any other circumstance, I would tell you to keep away from such a creature, but,' Castiel paused, a hint of what Dean could swear was discomfort crossing his features. 'Because of the service he rendered you, I won't destroy him.' Sam shifted his weight in that way he did when he felt cornered. Dean almost stepped in before Sammy did something stupid, but then his little brother surprised him.

'Thanks,' Sam said tightly.

'If you fall back to bad habits, however, we will not wait for your vampire to help you again,' the angel warned cryptically, though Castiel himself didn't seem to understand that he was being so. Dean was confusion itself and becoming really annoyed at feeling that way constantly.

'Got it,' Sam bit out, eyes downcast. Castiel nodded and disappeared with a flutter of invisible wings. The room felt more empty than it ever had, the space between the brothers seeming too far for any sound to cross. Dean stared at Sam, willing him to talk.

'What service was he talking about?' he finally had to ask.

'He saved my life,' Sam said. Dean wasn't as good at telling if Sam was lying as he would have liked, but he'd bet his soul this time.

'Bullshit,' he called Sam's bluff. Bobby watched silently, and Dean felt as if the old hunter was finally on his side. Sam's flittering gaze told of his guilt.

'Can we just leave it, please? I'm tired, I need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow.' Sam didn't even give Dean the chance to argue; he just strode out of the room. Dean and Bobby listened to the big feet stamping up the stairs. Dean sighed and briefly wondered when was the last time he hadn't felt just a little bit tired about it all. He couldn't remember.

'What do you think?' he asked Bobby for lack of a better thing to do. He wasn't going to go to bed before he was sure Sam was pretending to sleep.

'I don't know, but if an angel is willing to let a vampire live because of something he did for Sam, then I'm thinking we should let the vamp stick around.' Bobby left it at that and went to bed himself, leaving Dean standing in the library nonplussed. He hadn't thought about it that way. It made the other aspect of the mystery take centre stage, however: what the hell had Eric's service been? He briefly considered calling Castiel back to ask the angel, but figured the guy probably didn't like being nagged. It would just have to wait till morning.

XXX

Sam had gotten pretty good at sneaking out while Dean slept. He was a bit out of practice, and the stairs at Bobby's were a new challenge, but he managed to get down them with the minimal of sound. He checked in as he passed what Bobby used as a bedroom, a room through the kitchen that must once had been a dining room. The hunter was sleeping peacefully on a fold-out couch that had probably not been folded in again for several decades. Sam slipped outside, the afternoon air feeling warm and oppressive even though it was fairly cool. Sam had gotten used to nights and cold. He preferred it these days. Even though he knew he should still too tired to move, with hunting all night and the overload of information from Castiel, he was restless.

The car stacks loomed like ancient monuments as he passed them. Metal coffins, Sam thought. He kept his eyes on the ground as he reached the woods beyond. When he was a good distance from the yard he found a comfy-looking tree and sat down.

He took out his phone and stared at the display. He pressed two for Eric.

It was pointless. Eric might not want to answer. It rang for a long time. Sam listened to the tone without really hearing it, letting its steady rhythm lull him into a waking sleep. 

'Sam?' The hunter almost jumped out of his skin at his name. Eric's voice sounded tired and perhaps a little grumpy.

'Eric, you're awake?' he asked in astonishment. He looked around the forest, noting that yes, the sun was still streaming through the branches and he hadn't been sitting there for hours.

'Yes, you woke me,' Eric explained calmly.

'Where are you?'

'In a mausoleum,' Eric said. Sam waited for more information, but none was forthcoming.

'Are you...' but Sam didn't really need to ask about Eric. Eric was fine. He was always fine. Suddenly, Sam felt angry. 'You're heading off tonight I suppose?' he asked.

'That was the plan,' Eric replied. Sam's swallowed, his throat feeling dry.

'Well, have a nice life, I guess, or eternity, or... however long the world lasts,' Sam's voice got progressively quieter. 'What happens to vampires when the world ends?'

'I don't know.' Sam thought perhaps Eric did sound a little bit scared.

'Castiel showed up after you left,' Sam suddenly supplied. Eric didn't answer. 'He said the Witnesses are one of sixty-six seals that need to be broken.'

'Let me guess,' Eric said. 'Lilith?'

'That's the theory.' Sam sighed a breath when Eric didn't say anything. 'Do you want to know what happens when the seals break?' he asked irritably.

'I'm not sure I do,' Eric replied. 'But feel free to tell me if you want.'

'Lucifer-The devil gets out.'

'He is a major player in the Apocalypse, from what I remember,' Eric said, as if they were discussing a play he'd planned to see at a theatre, or a game.

'Jesus Christ, how can you be so casual about this!' Sam cried, at the end of his rope. He was tired of Eric's calmness. Before, his steady presence had been his rock, his anchor in his own storm, but now he felt like he needed someone on the boat with him, feeling a little bit crazy too.

'I don't know how else to be.'

Suddenly, Sam heard it, and he understood. He raised his other hand and placed it over his face, closing his eyes. Eric didn't care about the Apocalypse. He has seen his Maker last night. He had been prepared to go into the sun. Sam knew then, that Eric loved his Maker the way Sam loved Dean. He was pretty sure that if Dean hadn't blown the vampire ghost away, Eric would have chosen to go with him, would have let himself be killed like all the other hunters the Witnesses had gotten to, without a fight.

What a pair they made, he thought disparagingly. They loved each other, but they were both second to each other. He also knew, however, that Eric's Maker was gone, and that he, Sam the mortal, was here.

'Come back,' Sam said, pleading softly. 'I need you here.' He didn't ask about the events of last night. Eric wouldn't want to talk over the phone while he lay in a grave somewhere. 'Castiel said some things about me, about what I did with Ruby.'

'He knew?' Eric asked. Sam took a deep breath. If he could convince Eric that he was needed, maybe he would feel a little less hopeless about his Maker.

'Yeah, he knew everything,' Sam admitted. He found himself studying his knees, one hand picking at a rip in his jeans like an errant schoolboy who didn't want to look the principle in the eye. 'He knew I drank demon blood, and that you saved me from it. He said that he would let you live because of that. If I ever start drinking it again, though, he'd stop me.' There was a long pause.

'But you won't drink it again,' Eric stated with certainty. Sam sighed.

'I don't want to drink it,' he said seriously. 'When I think about what Ruby was doing to me, at how stupid I was to fall for it, I never want to feel that way again, but I also think about the power. How strong I was. What if I'm tempted? What if you're not here to knock sense into me?' _What if I'm weak?_ Maybe this wasn't about convincing Eric anymore.

'You won't,' Eric said. 'I have every faith in you.'

'You have too much faith in me,' Sam insisted. 'Christ, if Dean knew he'd fucking lock me up and throw away the key, and maybe he'd be right to.'

'Maybe if you tell him, explain your reasoning-'

'Reasoning?' Sam exclaimed. 'I let Ruby feed me bullshit for a month and then I took up with a vampire-!' He sighed and rubbed his face. 'I can't tell him. He'd be so fucking disappointed. He wouldn't care about my reasoning.' He snorted. 'Not that I had much reasoning. I was messed up, that's all there is too it.'

'You know that's a lie.'

'Why didn't you go into the sun?' Sam asked suddenly. He held his breath when he realised what he'd asked. He was sure Eric would hang up. He waited for what seemed like ages. Finally, Eric's soft voice drifted into his ear.

'Godric asked me not to.'

'Godric was your Maker?'

'Yes. He saved me. He asked me to walk with death, to be immortal, and I said yes. We drifted apart about half a century ago.' That wasn't very long for a vampire like Eric, Sam realised. For Eric it must have been as if they'd just parted. Sam tried not to feel any jealousy, but it was difficult. 'Let's talk about this another time,' Eric said. 'Talk to your brother. If you have any information about these seals, I'll help you keep them intact.' Before Sam could even answer, Eric hung up.

He stuffed the phone into his jacket pocket, sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He turned to go back inside, walking with a shuffling gait and staring at the ground as he walked.

Inside he found Dean and Bobby seated around the kitchen table, eating heated up pizza. Sam sat down and grabbed a slice for himself, ignoring Dean's stare. He wasn't in the mood.

'So, you ready to talk?' Dean asked. Bobby cleared his throat. Sam chewed. Dean leaned back in his chair. 'Have a nice stroll at least?'

'I called Eric to check up on him. I didn't think he'd answer, but he did.' Sam didn't care enough to lie, he realised. Eric wasn't coming back. He would keep calling, however, until Dean asked him to stop that too. The thought filled him with deep unease.

'Hiding out in the nearest cemetery?'

'He'll be gone by nightfall,' Sam mumbled between bites. He could feel Dean and Bobby exchange stares. He wasn't sure which one of them won the contest, but it was Bobby who next spoke, voice soft and convincing.

'Sam, what did Castiel mean by bad habits?'

'It doesn't matter,' Sam told them, throwing his slice down. He had lost his appetite. 'I won't be falling into bad habits again.'

'You sure about that?' Dean asked. Sam rose abruptly. He stared down at Dean, who stared right back.

'What happened while you were in hell is in the past,' Sam said. 'It's over and I'm never going down that road again.'

'It was Ruby, wasn't it?' Dean asked, rising as well and facing off with his brother. 'She convinced you to use your freaky powers, didn't she?' Dean's voice rose and Sam felt his whole body tensing. He would control his emotions.

'I'm not doing it anymore. She's gone,' Sam said. 'And I'm not talking about it.' Dean shook his head, his face lined with the now familiar disgust Sam was sick to death of. 'You were in hell, Dean-'

'You promised me you wouldn't go down that road!' Dean yelled.

'I thought it was the only way to kill Lilith!' Sam yelled right back, though his voice was softer due to the tiredness and desperation he couldn't hide. 'It was stupid and the biggest mistake of my life, okay? Is that what you want me to say? You want an apology? Fine, I'm sorry. I'm never listening to a demon ever again. I learned my lesson!' Sam took a deep breath and stopped himself before he yelled something he'd really regret, or reveal something. Dean's jaw was working, but he looked like he was thinking hard. Sam was just about to storm out.

'Thanks to Eric,' Dean mumbled, almost to himself. Sam blinked.

'Yeah- I mean,' he shrugged. 'He killed her. He saw what she was doing to me, manipulating me. I've told you this.'

'I know, I guess I just wasn't listening.'

'Why are you now? Listening?'

'Because,' Dean said seriously, eyes almost sad. 'An angel told you he'd stop you if you ever used your powers again. If Eric hadn't already stopped you, then maybe you'd still be using them now and...' Sam swallowed at the thought. Everyone fell silent for a moment.

'I'm not going to,' Sam said softly.

'I believe you,' Dean said. Sam's shoulders lowered slightly. He nodded.

'I'm going to have a shower,' he decided and left.

XXX

'You finally wising up?' Bobby asked as Dean retook his seat. The younger hunter gave him an exasperated look, but nodded nonetheless.

'I don't think I have a choice,' Dean said. They sat for a moment, staring at the cooling pizza.

'You afraid Sam'll leave?'

'No,' Dean said at once. 'And that's the problem.' At Bobby's confused look, Dean elaborated. 'He's miserable without the vamp, and if a blood-sucking supernatural creature is what he needs to keep him away from demons-? Well, then I guess I'm stuck with the bastard.'

'You're an idjit,' Bobby stated. Dean raised an eyebrow. 'Sam's learned his lesson. I can tell by just looking at the kid. He's miserable without Eric, though, that much is true, but you know as well as I he'd give Eric up if you told him to.'

A year ago he would have accepted that about Sam as a given, a fact about life that their years hunting together had set in stone. Why then did the thought now fill him with nagging guilt?

'So, does that mean you think we should work with the vamp?' Dean asked.

'You can start calling him Eric,' Bobby said, and that really answered the question so Dean went back to his now cold pizza.

XXX

'Call him,' Dean ordered when Sam came back from his shower. 'When the sun goes down,' he added. Sam opened his mouth to question his brother, but Dean exited quick, muttering about working on the car. And that, Sam realised, was Dean's way of giving permission.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. No excuse, just forgot. If it happens again, a comment will get my ass in gear :)

Sam called and told Eric that they could work together. The vampire's response was short and to the point. He was going to meet them at whatever motel they ended up in on their way to a new case.

Sam felt jittery all day, and Dean wasn't much better. The two had a lot on their minds, not even counting the Apocalypse. The drive was quiet, though Sam couldn't decide if it was a tense quiet or relaxed. Dean looked a bit frayed around the edges, and Sam suspected it wasn't all because of Eric or Ruby or Angels. Sometimes, Dean would go into the bathroom just to splash water in his face. Sam had seen him once, just staring at himself in the mirror.

Sam wondered what Dean saw then, but hadn't gotten up the courage to ask yet.

They were headed to a small town in western Pennsylvania, and both of them pretended to be focused on the case. There were clear demon signs, which Sam didn't want to think about.

They stopped at a roadside motel, not even halfway there but exhausted. Dean went straight to bed, not even bothering to pretend he was avoiding the vampire's arrival.

Sam took a walk outside, feeling strangely nostalgic as he rounded the long, flat building to find a nice little lawn with a rusted playground from when these kinds of places got actual tourists on their way somewhere. He wandered aimlessly among the swings, singing high-pitched whenever the wind blew them. The night was cold, the way he liked it. He smelled the road even back here. Most of the light came from the small bathroom windows that lined the back wall of the motel.

'What did you do?'

Sam spun at the sound of Eric's voice. The vampire was walking across the grass, voice almost teasing. Sam's chest expanded as he took a deep breath. The moment Eric was close enough he reached out, grabbed the pale neck harshly and pulled the vamp into a bruising kiss.

XXX

Dean waited for Sam to leave before he got up and followed.

He knew he shouldn't. He should just leave Sam and Eric to do whatever it was they did together, but a part of him was too curious to just sleep through another meeting between his brother and the vampire. Who knew how many clandestine rendezvous they'd had- not that Dean used that phrase to describe the meetings, but he figured it was the sort of thing a thousand-year-old vampire might say.

The thought of the vamp with Sam made him shudder with both disgust and fear. But the more he saw of Eric the more he had to admit that Sam wasn't in any real danger. In fact it seemed to be the opposite. If Dean had come back from hell to find Sam in the arms of a demon instead...

He sneaked a glance around the corner, spotting Sam's shape in the light streaks from the bathroom windows. The tall figure was kicking the ground as he walked. Dean retreated out of sight when he saw Eric emerging from the far side of the motel, making his way across the grass quickly. Dean held his breath and listened.

'What did you do?' he heard Eric ask. He sounded almost happy. Dean grimaced at the thought and snuck another peak, and then immediately wished he hadn't. Now that he had, however, he couldn't look away. It was like a car crash. The two were devouring each other, like they hadn't seen each other in months. Eric hugged Sam to him, who was clutching Eric's head so hard it had to be painful- but then, Dean realised, vamps could probably take a few more punches than the average mortal.

He had seen Sam kiss chicks before. He had seen the way Sam had looked at Jess during those few moments Dean had seen them in the same room when one of them wasn't burning. He watched with a sinking feeling in his chest as Sam pulled away from Eric and just looked for a moment. Eric kept a tight hold of Sam. Dean knew that look, even in the dark. It was like it was producing its own light, though Dean would kill anyone who accused him of thinking something so chick-flick-like.

'Sorry,' Sam said a short, breathless laugh. 'What did you say?'

'I asked what did you do,' Eric repeated. 'To make your brother change his mind.' Sam's head tilted forward a little, out of shyness or embarrassment, Dean couldn't tell.

'I think he just finally realised that without you he wouldn't have a brother, or at least, not one he recognised.'

'So there is a head on his shoulders after all,' Eric quipped. Dean bit the inside of his cheek and remained silent. Sam gave that same short laugh he always did when he couldn't help but agree. Then the two fell silent. Sam played with the collar of Eric's leather jacket- which Dean thought looked really gay, but not in a homophobic way, he told himself.

'So, you wanna try hunting with us?' Sam asked.

'Of course,' Eric replied. Sam looked up.

'You sure?'

'Why wouldn't I be?' Sam shrugged at the question, dislodging Eric's hold. Dean could tell the cold that came between them the moment they were separated by even just a few inches. Clearly, they had issues. Maybe they would fight and split up? he thought hopefully, and then felt guilty. Sam moved further away, turning and walking a few feet off. Eric watched him silently.

'Have you ever made another vampire?' Sam asked. Dean's heart sped up. Why was Sam asking that?

'Yes,' Eric replied evenly. Sam glanced back at him.

'And you've left them?' Eric tilted his head to the side. 'I mean,' Sam continued, trying to explain. 'They must care about you just as much as you cared about Godric, and you about them. Don't you miss them?' 

'I care very deeply about my child,' Eric replied. 'But every Maker-Child relationship is different.'

'Why did you and Godric split up?' Sam asked. Eric looked away. Dean could spot avoidance a mile off.

'Let's talk about this another time.'

'That's what you said on the phone,' Sam pointed out. He returned to stand in front of Eric, but the vamp wasn't looking at him. 'Talk to me.'

'What is it with you Americans and talking?' Eric suddenly snapped. Dean tensed. He did not like vampires, and he liked angry vampires even less. Sam didn't seem deterred at all. 'All you want to do is talk, to anyone who will listen. I swear I've never met another people so fond of discussing their feelings.'

'You're avoiding the subject,' Sam pointed out, a little spitefully.

'The subject is in the past, where it belongs,' Eric declared before turning and walking away. Sam was quick, though, and grabbed an arm. Eric stopped even though Dean knew the vamp never had to do anything because someone forced him to. Clearly, he wanted to be stopped.

'You're grieving,' Sam said, in his understanding, pleading, puppy-dog on full, kind of way. 'Believe me, I know how that is.'

'Ah, but the difference between you and me is that your brother came back,' Eric said. 'Godric will never return.'

'You think he's in hell?'

'No,' Eric answered at once. 'If vampires go somewhere after this life, it is not to hell.'

'You helped me through the worst few months of my life,' Sam told him. 'Why can't I help you?'

'Because I do not require help,' Eric said. He finally turned back to Sam. He slowly brought his hands up and cupped Sam's face. From his perspective, Dean mused how normal they looked, both the same height. Usually, Sam would stick out like a sore thumb, but with Eric he almost looked smaller, but that was probably just because Sam slouched, a lot.

'Godric is gone,' Eric said, almost too softly for Dean to hear. 'I have no plans to join him if that's what worries you.' He leaned in slowly and pressed his lips to Sam. Dean wanted to look away, but it was actually quite a sweet kiss, loathed though he was to admit it. He decided to leave the pair and returned to the motel room, a little sick to his stomach.

XXX

Sam allowed Eric to kiss away the conversation. He knew the vampire pretty well now, despite the long unknown past. Eric liked to appear calm and unaffected. Sam would just have to wait for the opportune moment to break through some of those shields. With a brother like Dean, Sam was an expert in the field.

'Maybe we should get our own room,' Eric whispered. Sam's smile got in the way of the next kiss. He pushed at Eric's chest.

'I better warn my brother. I do need a few hours sleep if we're gonna reach the next case tomorrow.'

'Your brother can drive the first shift,' Eric pointed out. Sam ignored him and went back to the motel room. Eric went straight for the reception. Dean was sitting on the bed when Sam entered, elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands. Sam frowned at the sight. Dean looked up when Sam closed the door.

'Eric made it here okay?' Dean asked. Sam's frown deepened.

'Eh, yeah,' he said. 'You okay with that?'

'Yeah, course,' Dean said with his "nothing can bother me" shrug.

'He's getting a room,' Sam felt compelled to mention. He could see Dean's Adam's apple working.

'Right...'

'We have some stuff to talk about,' Sam explained, though it sounded like a lie even to his ears. 'So, I'm gonna.' He turned to leave.

'Just-,' Dean sighed, 'Just tell me you know what you're doing.'

'I do,' Sam said softly before leaving quietly. Dean nodded to no one in particular.

Sam found Eric standing outside a room a few doors down, leaning up against the wall like the nordic version of James Dean; immortal, cool and blond. He had the collar of his leather jacket up, and was giving Sam the eye.

'If you ask "come here often,"' Sam warned, 'I'm turning around.' Eric just opened the door and gestured for Sam to entered, who could do nothing but do as he was told. The room was identical to the one he had just left, only with one bed. It was covered in a disgusting mauve wallpaper, and the furniture looked like it had been stolen off of the set of Dallas.

Sam didn't really care though, as Eric's arms surrounded him from behind and soft, cold lips began kissing his neck. His jacket was pulled off, and then Eric worked quickly on the buttons of his plaid shirt. Sam sighed in pleasure. When the shirt was off, Eric spun him around and pulled off the t-shirt underneath, locking their lips together the moment it was gone. Sam was steered backwards until he hit the bed and allowed himself to fall backwards.

He watched as Eric removed his own clothes, matching the movements once the vampire had gotten to his trousers. Once naked, Sam scooted up higher on the bed as Eric got down on it, hands and knees, and crawled up.

'I hope the walls are thin,' Eric teased as he dipped his head to kiss Sam's stomach.

'I don't,' Sam protested, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as Eric set to work.

'Perhaps I should jag you.'

'You wouldn't dare,' Sam laughed breathlessly.

'Don't you trust me?'

'Yes,' Sam said, eyes still closed, but smiling. He reached down and put his fingers through Eric's hair, pulling hard to emphasise his point. Eric didn't answer verbally. They didn't make very much noise that night, but they were certainly not quiet.

XXX

Sam and Dean nodded their thanks to the bar maid for their beers and took a sip each, probably to put off the inevitable. They had talked about the case all day, and now they were waiting for the last member of the party to show up now that night had fallen. Dean had been in a fairly good mood, enjoying the atmosphere of the bar, and the nice bar maid, Janice. Sam concentrated on the demon omens around town, though now that they were here, things looked a little weird. The disappearances could be demons, but some of them had turned up dead, and drained. That smelled of vampires, and the police were on alert so the Winchester had played the FBI card. Maybe Eric could shed some light on it; if anyone could tell vampire signs from demonic ones, surely it was a vampire?

'So,' Dean said, putting down his beer. He looked good in his suit as usual, while Sam felt out of place. 'How long does Eric usually take to catch up?'

'Not long, usually,' Sam said. 'He's an early riser.' Dean's eyebrows rose, but he didn't comment. Sam perked up when he saw the tall blond enter. For a town of German decent, the arian vampire still stood out. He glided effortlessly through the crowd to their table and sat down next to Sam, just a smidgen closer than a friend would. Sam pretended not to notice, but Dean's narrowed eyes said it all.

'You must feel right at home,' Dean commented instead, gesturing to the bar and general decor of imported beer logos and pictures of mountains and yodelers.

'I am Swedish, not German,' Eric practically growled, his eyes glancing around the place in suspicious. Sam noticed he was breathing a little heavily through the nose. 'I do not like Germans.'

'Why not?' Dean asked. Sam gave him a "duh" look, but sometimes Dean just plain forgot to think and he just returned Sam's stare with a shrug. Or, and this was probably more likely, he was just doing it to annoy Eric, who's jaw was working visibly.

'Read a history book,' he bit out. 'It's still rather fresh in my mind compared to mortals.' He breathed in through his nose again, and Sam realised he was smelling the place.

'What is it?'

'Nothing,' Eric replied tersely. At Sam's look he sighed. 'I don't smell any creatures. I was hoping the drained cattle would be from a creature, but if vampires are doing it, we have no place here.'

'I'm not letting the cops handle this,' Dean said. 'Besides, I think it's demonic. The weather signs clearly rule out vampires.' Sam nodded in agreement, while Eric shrugged uncomfortably.

'So what is the plan?' Sam asked.

'I don't know about you two, but I'm gonna interview Judith a bit more,' Dean said with a smirk and rose, beer in hand.

'It was Janice,' Sam pointed out.

'Thanks, man, good to know.'

'Dude, we're on a case,' he reminded his brother.

'Hey, you get to,' Dean nodded towards Eric, 'have fun with your vamp. Besides, I have a lot of catching up to do after my time out downstairs.' He got up and meandered towards the bar where the chick was pouring beers. Sam watched as his brother leaned against the bar, and by the look on the girl's face she was eating up his charm. Eric shifted over to Dean's side of the table.

'I do not like it here,' he said. Sam frowned.

'We interviewed a few witnesses, and as far as we can determine the victims don't have anything in common,' Sam told him. 'We've got no more leads. They could be being taken anywhere in town.'

'If there are vampires here, I should not be here,' Eric said, 'and if there a demons here, none of us should be here.' Sam frowned.

'You mean me. I shouldn't be here.' Eric looked at him, eyes intense. The stare became prolonged and Sam knew it had been a careless comment. Eric trusted him. As the vampire continued to stare, Sam felt edgy.

'We could go back to the motel,' Sam suggested casually. He glanced over at Dean, still working the bar maid. 'Dean's gonna be busy for a while.' Eric didn't even answer, he just rose and Sam followed instantly. The way Sam saw it, they had a bit of catching up to do themselves.

They walked through the small town quickly, stopping every few feet to steal kisses. Even though he was on a case, Sam felt a little giddy with having Eric so close and Dean actually being his snarky self, talking up with the ladies. Maybe things could be like this, for as long as the world lasted. It was a hopeful thought, so Sam decided he better not pay too much attention to it.

The motel lay a few minutes walk outside the town square. They had just reached the street on which it lay, when Eric stopped dead. He had his arm around Sam's waist, so the hunter was pulled to a stop as well.

'What?'

'Get inside, arm yourself,' Eric urged. He was gazing off down the dark street. 'Go,' he ordered. Sam didn't hesitate. He had his gun in his belt, but he wanted the shotgun, so he ran for the motel room. He was just stuffing the key in the lock when the world went dark.


	10. Chapter 10

Eric spun around at the sound of a dull thud. He had been so sure whoever was following them had been down the street, but he realised at that moment it had been a diversion to separate them. He sprinted back as fast as his speed would allow him. The motel door still had the key in. Eric focused, trying to hear something, smell something, but it was useless.

'Sam!' he yelled, but he did not expect an answer. He felt despair and fear. It wasn't often he felt those emotions. He turned back and ran for the bar.

The place was still crowded, and Eric had to control himself as he pushed his way through the crowd. He reached the bar and recognised the barmaid, but Dean wasn't there. He leaned over and got her attention by using the full force of his glamour power. 

'You were flirting with a young man tonight, his name was Dean.'

'Yes,' she said tonelessly.

'Where is he?'

'He spotted someone in the crowd and followed them outside about five minutes ago.'

'Damn.' He thought for a moment. 'Did you recognise whoever Dean followed?'

'I think it was Emmett Jones.' If the girl knew this person, perhaps it was demons and not vampires after all. Perhaps the possessed Emmett had flashed his black eyes at Dean to get him to investigate.

'And where does Emmett Jones live?' Eric demanded. She gave up the address and directions. Eric left her dazed and confused, but unharmed. He ran as if his life depended on it.

The house was a nice old thing, located a mile outside of town. Perfect for nefarious purposes and demon games. The house was a tall, red brick, heavy set building; all the foliage around it seemed to sag towards its weight. He watched the place from across the street behind a thick oaktree. The curtains were drawn in every window, but there was a light downstairs. They probably knew he would be coming.

Best not to keep them waiting.

He crossed the street in the open, walking at a leisurely pace. He headed up the nice paved path between rows of roses. The door held a big brass knocker shaped like a lion's head, but he ignored it in favour of just opening the door. True to his expectations, it wasn't locked.

The hallway was stately, with a double staircase. The open archway into the living room gave some light, which Eric followed.

The living room wasn't the damaged wreck he had expected. Instead it was lush room of typical upper middle-class American tastes, which Eric rather detested. A big couch with even bigger cushions faced the fireplace, next to which stood a vampire.

In truth, it was not what he had expected, especially since he recognised said vampire.

'Patricia.' He got a smile for that, as if she truly hadn't expected him to remember her, but who could forget the Vampire Queen of Pennsylvania? The first Indian Vampire, as they called her, or Native American these days, if you were the politically correct type.

She was of average height, far too thin for Eric's tastes yet muscled in a way that spoke of a hard life. Her hair was black, long and unkept, and made her face even longer. You could always tell she wasn't pureblooded, though her skin was also whiter due to her vampirism.

She wasn't beautiful like a modern woman, but she could be pretty if she wanted, which she never had. She wore what Eric could only describe as a hippie-looking dress, brown with a floral pattern. In terms of appearance and impression, she was the exact opposite of the Queen of Louisiana. Patricia was a wild thing, refusing all legal interaction with mortals despite the Great Revelation. Eric had met her once, briefly, at a party for his own Queen. One thing the two women did have in common: they were both crazy. It seemed to be a requirement to becoming queen.

'Eric Northman,' she greeted with a smile. 'You're a man in high demand these days, and hard to find.' Eric knew he was faster and stronger than Patricia - she was considered the youngest vampire ever to become queen at "only" four hundred years.

'Is that why you are here? Just for me?' He noted every tiny movement of her body, but she was being deceptively calm and he wasn't sure if she was alone, yet, so he waited.

'The Authority wants you dead,' she smiled, 'but not everything is about you.' Eric frowned slightly at her tone. Patricia was usually fiercely loyal to The Authority since they had given her a purpose to continue to exist, though that faith had been shaken since the Great Revelation. Had she gone rogue? If so, that could be a point in his favour. She didn't seem the type, however, crazy bitch that she was.

'Why are you here?' As if in answer, a scream of pain was heard from somewhere in the house. Eric recognised the voice; it was Sam. He couldn't help the slight twitch in his muscles as he fought to restrain himself from running to his hunter. Patricia noted this and smiled maliciously. She toyed with a lock of her wild hair.

'So you really are fond of the mortal,' she commented, 'My underlings told me they saw you kissing him, but I didn't really want to believe a vampire of your age would stoop so low. Then again, you have already killed a King and mixed with... undesirable company.' 

Another scream rose up, Dean this time. The scream was bit off quick. Eric knew it wouldn't be long before they wrenched the next one from him. Vampires were good at torture. Not as good as demons, but good enough.

'What do you want with them? Why take them if you want me?' If they had wanted him, they could have just taken him in the street. So, Dean and Sam were the primary targets.

'Oh, I want you too,' Patricia assured him, 'no need to get jealous of your little mortals. We're all here for a party.'

'I will kill you,' Eric said. He knew he could, fairly easily.

'And your mortal toy will die,' Patricia pointed out unnecessarily, with an airy flick of her hair as if she was bored with the conversation already. 'I think the best thing you can do is surrender. We've been having such a good time in this town. Your Winchesters were the third hunting party to investigate.'

'Give him to me, and I won't kill you. Kill him, and you die.' For a brief moment there was a look of disgust on her face. She couldn't abide the thought of Eric caring for a mortal.

Before she could answer, the double sliding doors to the next room slid apart, revealing a man. He was in his thirties and ordinary-looking. Eric was confused for a moment by the presence of such a mortal - Patricia was well-known for her utter hatred of all humans - when a scream of pain was heard from Dean, and the normal brown eyes suddenly turned black as if in pleasure at the sound.

'Hellspawn,' Eric hissed. The demon gazed at Eric calculatingly, tilting its head to the side in a pantomime of a human gesture. Eric looked to Patricia for an explanation, and got none. 'You are working with hellspawn?' The very idea was revolting. Patricia looked to the demon.

'What?' she demanded.

'We want the other one too.'

'You'll have them eventually,' Patricia demurred, smiling sweetly. She walked towards the demon, and he watched her with black eyes. 'We'll all have a big party, together.' Eric almost looked away in disgust as Patricia reached out and trailed a finger down the demon's face. He seemed to enjoy it. Eric heard more screams, from both brothers. The demon left, closing the doors.

'How can you work with demons?' Eric demanded. Patricia returned slowly to her spot by the mantel.

'A bit of a hypocrite, aren't we?' She blinked slowly at him, her face nothing but innocent. 'I would much rather kill mortals with a few demons, then be in love with one of the disgusting creatures. Don't you see? Demons are our kindred spirit.'

'You are mad.' She didn't react to the taunt. Screams rose up and she tilted her head to listen, fluttering her eyes in bliss. Eric closed his fists, nails digging into his palms.

'I have seen the light,' she said dreamily, 'and it's the fires of Hell on earth.'

'Lucifer would destroy humanity,' Eric pointed out, 'he wouldn't leave any food for us at all.'

'No, he'll keep the mortals. To torture, and bleed,' she argued. 'There'll be lots of bleeding.' She opened her eyes again and stared at him. 'Sam's probably bleeding right now. He's with my underlings, they've all had a taste.' Eric tried to stop himself from showing a reaction, but his teeth were grinding and he knew she could see it by the curve of her smile.

'That's it,' Eric said and moved.

She, despite her taunting, had clearly not expected Eric to react physically. She was truly shocked when he was across the room before she could blink, hand around her throat so tight she couldn't scream. He squeezed and squeezed until blood streamed from her eyes and then twisted the head off entirely. Even weaker than he had anticipated, he thought as he tossed the head into the empty fireplace. She had ruled through loyalty, not strength. The Indian Queen, a strange creature.

He spared her no more thought, and moved quickly to the doors, pressing his ear to them to ascertain where in the house the screams were coming from. He had to free Sam first, who was with vampires he could more easily defeat. They could then turn their combined efforts on the demons.

His plan was dashed, however, when he entered the dining room. The chairs were thrown haphazardly around the room, but the table, a dark thing polished to perfection, held Sam's prone body. He was naked above the waist, arms and legs tied to the legs of the table, and had three vampires feeding on him.

All three heads lifted up at the sound of door opening. They were young creatures, Eric concluded, all male; the eldest couldn't be more than a couple hundred years, and the youngest clearly a fledgling.

'Eric,' Sam gasped. 

The vampire closest to the door, the eldest by Eric's reckoning, launched himself at the intruder. Eric spun to the right and caught the head under his arm, continuing his spin and lifting the vamp off his feet by his head and sending the body flying out of the room at high velocity. His movements were a blur to mortals. He didn't bother to see where it landed before being tackled by the next contender. This one was bigger and used his bulk to push Eric up against the wall. Eric was quicker, though, and grabbed hold of the head, pushing his thumbs into the eye-sockets. The vampire screamed and Eric used the distraction the pain caused to twist off the head. He was really getting good at that. The body fell to the side and Eric dropped the head, eyeing the last vamp. The little thing was trembling with fear, shooting glances at the windows.

They made their move at the same time. Eric cut the vamp off before he could reach the windows. He grabbed the longish hair and pulled. The vampire screamed a high-pitched wail of fright. Eric put a stop to that quickly. That head was the easiest to pull off of them all. Such a young thing.

'Eric, untie me!' Sam yelled. Eric got the arms first and then the legs. Sam's torso was riddled with bite marks. 'You can heal them later,' Sam rebuffed before Eric could say anything. The hunter stumbled to his shirt and jacket, lying in a pile in the corner, and shrugged them on. 'They didn't take the knife, the idiots,' he muttered as he checked his jacket pocket. 

A scream caught their attention. It came from downstairs. He checked with Sam, who gave him the "let's go" look. Just as they were about to burst into action, something drew their attention to the door Eric had just come through. Another demon wearing a young hispanic woman for a meat suit. 

'Go get Dean, I'll take care of her,' Sam decided, shifting the knife into a fighting position and crouching. The demon smiled in response, eyes blackening. Eric hesitated. 'Go!' He left.

He slammed through the destroyed rooms of the house, ending up in the kitchen before he found the entrance to the basement. He could see light coming from below. Eric paused and took a breath before he sped down them faster than a human could see, stopping dead the moment he hit the stone floor.

Dean was also naked from the waist up, but he wasn't tied to a table. He was hanging from four hooks piercing the skin of his shoulders and upper arms. Blood ran down his back in thick rivulets and knife cuts decorated his back and probably front, though Eric couldn't see it. Demons really were better at torture.

Two demons were playing, standing on either side of Dean's limp form. One of them the man who had interrupted Patricia. The other was a female, a nice old lady, probably the original owner of the house. They both looked up when Eric arrived. At first, they looked confused - perhaps they thought Eric worked for Patricia. That theory was quickly dashed, however, when Eric started chanting an exorcism.

'Stop it, or I'll kill him!' the male demon howled, holding his knife to Dean's throat. Eric didn't stop, but shrugged as if to say "go ahead," and charged instead. He used all his strength and power.

The one with the knife at Dean's throat was first. Eric charged him until they both collided with the far wall, finishing with a vicious punch to the demon's chest so hard he broke all the ribs. That wouldn't stop it, however, but it distracted it long enough for Eric to turn and accept the nice old lady's offering.

She slashed at him with her knife, screaming at the top of her lungs as Eric's ongoing exorcism made her head rattle. She managed a good five inch gash on Eric's arm. He knocked her away before she could go in for another and punched at her so hard she stumbled back and fell on her ass.

The male demon grabbed his shoulders from behind, but he had managed to keep his exorcism going uninterrupted, even through the pain in his arm, so the hold was desperate and clumsy. He grabbed the demon's hands before the hell spawn could choke him. The demon was screaming its head off, angry as only a hell spawn could manage.

The old lady's demon, watching from the floor, decided to call it quits before she was sent back to hell. Her mouth opened wide and the hell spawn flew out. The other demon seemed to lose its courage at that, and Eric felt the hands crawling at his throat go slack. He let go and the body fell to the floor. He didn't really care if it was dead or alive; he was too focused on the hunter.

It was silent now that the torture was over and the demons were dead, Dean looked about as bad as hell warmed over. His chest was riddled with cuts and bite marks. His face was pale, almost lifeless, but somehow he lifted his head. His eyes were dull as he gazed at Eric, who hurried to his side to try and lift him off the hooks.

'Fuck,' Dean swore through gritted teeth when the hooks started to give. Eric lifted him easily with one arm around the torso, slipping the hooks off with his other hand. Dean went limp in his arms once his "support" was gone. 

He heard a crash from upstairs and started to lift Dean up to carry over his shoulder, but the hunter protested.

'I can walk, just help me,' he contradicted himself. Eric slung one arm over his shoulders and put the around the bloody waist, and dragged the hunter upstairs as fast as he could. Dean was silent despite the pain his shoulders had to be in.

They returned to the dining room to find Sam on the floor, a snarling demon on top of him. Eric was a second away from throwing Dean to the floor to intervene, but Sam surprised them by managing to stick the knife right into the demon's throat, spraying blood everywhere, including right across Sam's face. The hunter reacted instantly, pushing the demon off as if it would still bite him and rubbing at his face. Eric sat Dean down quickly in a chair that was still intact and hurried to Sam's side.

'Is there any on me?' Sam asked, voice filled with panic, his eyes wild. Eric knelt in front of him and grabbed his shaking hands.

'You're fine,' he said in the calmest voice he could muster under the circumstances. 'We need to get out of here. Dean might need a hospital and two demons got out, not to mention the vampire that's unaccounted for.' Sam nodded, putting himself together and getting up. Eric went back and hefted Dean up again, and they all left. 

'I'll run back to the motel and get the car,' Eric told them. He handed Dean over to Sam as swift yet delicate as they could. Then he ran.

XXX

'Okay, lie down on your stomach,' Sam urged his brother once in a motel room. He had patched up the bite and knife marks with bandages in the car, but the holes from the hooks needed stitches. Fucking hooks, was all Sam could think as he surveyed the damage. Dean was limp as a rag doll. They hadn't stuck the hooks deep, but thanks to Dean's weight some of the wounds were pulled open. Sam swallowed at the sight and set to work preparing his needle and thread. Part of him wanted Eric to help heal him, but he knew Dean would not like that. 

'Get me the whiskey bottle,' Sam told Eric, nodding towards the duffle bag. Eric got it out and handed it to Sam, who used it to clean the wounds and then leaned forward to pour some into Dean's mouth. He got a few slurps in, then seemed to pass out. 

'I need to go,' Eric told him, standing by the bed looking a little lost with nothing to do. Sam glanced up at him. 'I can heal your wounds before I go.'

'They're fine,' Sam said, shifting his weight a bit to feel out his wounds. The bite marks weren't big, just painful. They had taunted him mostly. They could smell Eric on him, apparently. 'Just a few bandaids and I'll be fine. You should go. The sun's coming.' Eric looked out the window at the brightening sky, before turning back to Sam.

'You'll be gone by nightfall?'

'Yeah, we'll head northwest, I think,' Sam said. 'Hopefully out of state by the time you catch up.'

'We'll talk tomorrow night then,' Eric concluded and made for the door. Sam looked up, catching the vampire's eye as Eric glanced back at the same moment.

'Do you think a lot of vampires are working with demons?' Sam asked.

'I do not know,' Eric said truthfully, but the thought filled him with dread. Sam returned to his stitching, and Eric left.

The sky was brightening quickly, so Eric walked hurriedly towards a wooded area down the road. They had driven as fast as they could out of town, and had reached a small gathering of houses more than a proper town, but it had a motel so they had parked around back. He didn't have time to find a graveyard so he would have to sleep in the earth. The cold embrace of it sounded appealing right then.

A van parked on the side of the road suddenly roared to life. Eric at first didn't think anything of it, but then it suddenly sped towards him. If they were local hooligans out for some fun, they were certainly going to get it. The black van stopped right next to him and the door slid open.

Four vampires all reached for him. The last thing he felt was a needle in his throat, and then darkness took him just as the sun rose.

XXX

Dean decided he would drive the next shift. His shoulders still hurt like a bitch, but watching Sam getting distracted every two seconds was going to do him a lot more harm in the end, so he had ordered Sam to pull over.

Four days of bitch-faced Sam. It was enough to drive any man crazy.

He hadn't even dared ask about Sam's reaction to getting demon blood on his face. It's not like they hadn't gotten sprayed countless times before from all sorts of creatures. Sure, it was creepy, but Sam's reaction seemed off. He had kept silent about it, however, under the circumstances.

Three days and no sign of the vampire. After the first night with no answer and no call, Sam had turned the Impala around. They had searched everywhere around the motel they had crashed in after the hook incident, but had found no signs of anything.

They were two states over now, and Dean wanted to take a case Bobby had sent them. Sam was like a zombie. He still had a bandaid on his neck from where one of the fuckers had bitten him, and he was still missing his own vampire like Eric was his lost puppy.

'We have no leads,' Dean broke the silence. He preferred talking in the car. Less eye contact.

'He might call,' Sam said for the hundredth time.

'We've been stuck like this before, and you know what we do? We keep hunting.' He didn't say he thought Eric was dead, but he pretty much assumed it was a sure thing.

'I know,' Sam sighed reluctantly. 'I know, all right? It's just... this is my fault.'

'How is it your fault?'

'I dragged him into this,' Sam pointed out. 'It was all me. I asked him to help us. He could be happy at his club down in Louisiana, but I fucked it up.'

'He's a vampire,' Dean argued. 'I'm sure he didn't expect things to remain the same forever. Besides, I think I remember something about him showing up on our doorstep and kissing you.' He didn't like saying it, but he had to stop Sam from thinking such stupid thoughts.

'I just hope he's okay,' Sam mumbled.

'He's lived a thousand years, right?' Dean asked, vaguely remembering someone mentioning it. Sam confirmed it with a nod. 'I'm sure he'll outlive us all.' Sam's sad face relaxed a tiny increment, so Dean considered it a victory. He sped up towards the next case.

He tried to ignore the part of him that was clinging to the hope that Eric really was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the original ending to Supernatural Blood, Part 1. I've decided to post them as one here on Archive, so it's not over yet! :)


	11. Chapter 11

The same sound had been driving Sam crazy for hours. A small thud every one and a half seconds as the car passed over the seam in the concrete slabs used instead of asphalt. Every one and a half seconds, like clockwork, because Dean was sticking to the speed limit for some reason. The windows were all down, and the wind gave a little relief from the heat, but the constant thudding was draining Sam of all remaining willpower.

It didn't help that he had been staring at the endless expanse of nothingness for what felt like hours. They were really heading into Nowhere, USA now, and in an area they usually didn't do that much business in. A small town that used to be a hub of activity for people going west, but now barely a blimp on a map thanks to highways and cheaper air travel. Sam wondered if vampires enjoyed the desert. It seemed after everything he thought about these day, he would soon wonder if vampires enjoyed. It was cold at night in deserts, Sam recalled. Maybe they liked that.

'You alive over there?' Dean asked. The radio wasn't working, or maybe not even radio waves survived out here. Sam wanted to stick his head out the window like a dog.

'Yeah,' he replied. The only reason he was still wearing his sweat soaked t-shirt was that if he took it off, his arms would probably stick to his torso and melt together.

'You sure?' 

Sam sighed at Dean's nagging. His brother was always nagging, probably to stop Sam from nagging at him. In the end they both shut up because neither was going to talk about it. So they drove, hunted and drank till sunrise. No more witty quips or hustling pool together. Dean took care of business with credit cards and poker tables where he could find them. They barely even stopped to eat these days; Dean had become an expert in eating while driving.

'I'm breathing, so...'

'You're wearing your thinking bitch face,' Dean told him, 'which means you're thinking too much, about stuff that's no good thinking about.'

'You should stick to thinking about the road,' Sam snapped.

'Cute,' Dean snapped. They fell into their uneasy silence, a by now familiar companion. Sam hadn't heard squat from Eric in almost two weeks. It seemed blasphemous, but he couldn't help thinking he hadn't been nearly this depressed when Jess died. Sure, he'd been devastated and inconsolable for the first few months, and he hadn't been able to look at another woman for a long time, but with Eric it was different. If he let himself accept that the immortal vampire was dead, he would just lose it. So he stubbornly wore his "thinking bitch face" and held himself together through sheer denial.

Dean didn't seem to be doing much better. He had nightmares; worse nightmares than Sam ever had about Jess. Sometimes he even screamed bloody murder, but neither of them talked about it. It was hell, Sam was sure of it, but he had given up asking about it. If Dean wanted to bottle his pain, let him drink the home-made brew on his own.

'Let's talk about the case, at least,' Dean tried.

'Demon signs,' Sam explained in a monotone voice, 'a few people gone missing, weird weather, crops gone- whatever kind that can grow out here -livestock drained, and then nothing.'

'Nothing?'

'It's like the town fell off the map,' Sam straightened himself as he got into his attempts at research. 'I can't get through to the Sheriff's office, or any other phone in the area. I can't find anyone who seems to care it's gone either. The local newspaper had a website, pretty basic, probably run by the one guy with a internet connection, but it hasn't been updated since Friday.'

'Huh, sounds like the demons have taken over.'

'Maybe.'

'Usually, when stuff like that happens, we're already in the middle of it.'

'Yeah, we might not be able to get in. They might have found a way to physically cut the town off.'

They both fell silent for a moment as they contemplated what kind of ways the demons might have employed to seal off a town. Destroyed bridges had worked well in the past, but there weren't many rivers around here. It was a very small town, though, only a couple hundred people. Easy to miss if you weren't looking for it.

'The world is pretty weird,' Dean suddenly commented.

'Not that I don't know that,' Sam said, 'but did you mean any way in particular?' Dean shrugged, eyes on the road, but Sam noticed a bitter twist of the mouth.

'Just how people today seem to be so connected. I'm constantly saying no to chicks who ask me if I'm on the damn face-thing.' Sam snorted. 'And yet no one notices that a whole damn town just flickers out of existence.' Dean raised his right hand and flicked his fingers as if he was discarding a cigarette bud.

'Yeah,' Sam agreed quietly. 'But we know it's happened before, and probably will again if the demons get their Apocalypse going.'

'I wonder how long it will take before people notice.'

'People don't want to notice, Dean,' he pointed out. 'That's why we have a job in the first place.'

'Yeah, I know.'

Sam went back to looking out the window, and the dull thudding every one and a half seconds counted down to their destination.

XXX

The road into town turned to asphalt at last - which was a relief after all that thudding - with a layer of fine dirt blown over. Sam saw the town in the distance a long way off due to the flat expanse of nothingness, though they could see hills - or maybe they were mountains, Sam couldn't tell - behind the town along the horizon.

The town grew steadily larger, yet no roadblock appeared. They rolled into town down main street like right out of an old west novel. The Impala disturbed a layer of dust as Dean parked by the cracked pavement, and it took a moment before the wind blew it away so they could take a look around.

Dead might be the best word. To the Winchesters a ghost town was anything but dead; it usually involved a whole lot of activity. This place, though, was dead. For a few buildings, it looked like someone had transported them from some imaginary spacey future into the past, and then left them to rust until present time. You could tell they had once been new and white and rounded. There was even an old movie theatre with a big planet model on top with the words "Movie World" in big faded red letters. Maybe once upon a time it had rotated. There was a few pastel Cadillacs scattered here and there, their spiky wings sticking out at the rear giving no more illusions of flight.

For other buildings it was just regular desolation, the slow kind thanks to wind and sand, not rot. Most of the oldest buildings were made of wood, though they could have been made of straw and caked mud from the look of them.

This had been a place for tourists to stop. There were two old gas stations, one on either side of the road a few hundred yards apart. One had been closed longer than the other, but both now sported boarded up windows. Maybe the few people left didn't need gas because they weren't going anywhere.

They got out of the car and walked slowly to a small brick building proclaiming it was the Sheriff's Office. It seemed the safest bet under the circumstances. They had their weapons out, both of their sawed-offs, the knife in Sam's belt, and of course, holy water in their pockets.

The Sheriff's building was the only thing that looked old in the traditional sense, and seemed to have weathered the wind thanks to its brick structure. The doors weren't locked and the place was empty. Sam checked the stone-age computer, but the power was out. It was out everywhere they would soon find out. The cells were empty. There was no sign of a struggle.

'This is creepy,' Dean said as they made their way outside again, looking up and down the road in search of somewhere to check next. The sun seem to swallow everything in a haze, like you couldn't quite decide if it was all a mirage, only without the promise of water.

'You think it's the Croatoan virus again?' Sam asked.

'Maybe, but wouldn't there be a couple of them running around? We haven't exactly come in on stealth-mode. We're easy snacks.' They looked around again, waiting to see if any zombie-esque creatures sprang forth, but none came.

'Maybe the demons just killed everyone, or possessed them all and... I don't know, went wherever it is possessed demons go.'

'A whole town?' Dean sounded dubious.

'A lot of demons got out of the gate,' Sam pointed out. 'We haven't even come close to getting them all.'

'They've been running around wherever they please, though,' Dean pointed out. 'A whole town in one go? That has to be organised.' Sam raised his eyebrows in contemplation.

'Maybe they're becoming organised,' he suggested, 'maybe someone is rallying them to their cause...'

'Someone like Lilith?' Sam shrugged as if to say "who knows", but they were both thinking it. If someone wanted to take a bunch of people for an army, where better? Nice, easy and quick. Humanity wouldn't know what hit them when the demons came out of the closet to proclaim the Apocalypse.

'Let's check the rest out just to be sure,' Dean said and Sam nodded his agreement. They decided to split up to cover more ground.

Sam went down a side street that ran parallel to main street It wasn't much more than a alley between the houses that faced main street, and the old shacks that you could barely call houses. It was like they had been relegated to behind the scenes for the sake of the tourists. Sam wondered if the people who had lived in them had been like that too: ugly or unwanted, something to hide away from the nice people who came to spend their money here.

The place had that eerie quiet feel about it. A few cactuses and other desert plants had sprung up here and there, but otherwise it was like the very ground was dead. The sun was was her highest point, so the main buildings cast long shadows across the way, leaving Sam blinking every time he stepped into the rays of light that shone between.

A meow startled him more than it should have. Sam spun towards it out of instinct, shot-gun aimed directly at the cat's head. He sighed in relief when all it did was lick its paw at him. It was sitting on the stairs of one of the old shacks, which had once been painted yellow. The one window on the ground floor was boarded up. Sam looked up to see the same was true of the first floor. He gazed back down at the cat. It was nearly all black, except for a white spot at the end of its tail.

'You're immune too, huh?' Sam asked the feline. He didn't like thinking about his own immunity, for it invariably led to thoughts about demon blood, old hunting lodges, vampires and Eric. All roads of thought seemed to go in that direction.

The cat meowed again and turned to trot up the stairs. It scratched at the door and Sam frowned. Why wasn't it using the cat-flap? He took a few cautious steps up, careful to listen to the creaking in case the whole thing decided to give.

Now that he was level with the door he could see a white line of salt, and that the cat-flap had been nailed shut. He hesitated, then he knocked, and waited.

He was pretty sure he heard something move within. There was a slow creaking. He thought he saw a shadow move behind the boards on the window. He held the shot-gun tight in his hand, but lowered it to his side. The cat meowed and scratched.

The creaking stopped just behind the door.

'Go away,' a frail woman's voice said, causing Sam to blink in astonishment. Though frail, it sounded determined.

'Ma'm, are you all right?' Sam ventured. 'I'm here with my brother, we're looking around town-'

'Get out,' the voice said. It wasn't an order, but a plea this time. 'Go away.' Sam swallowed.

'Have people been acting strange, Ma'm?' he asked.

'Not people,' the voice told him, 'demons.' It took a moment before Sam understood that he had not misheard the woman.

'Are they-' Sam paused as he considered his words, his mind racing. 'Are they still here?'

'In Movie World,' the voice said. 'They're hold up in the old movie theatre. You should get out. Don't go in there.'

'Do you know how many there are?' Sam pressed. The voice seemed to hesitate

'I'm not sure. They dragged people in there. At night they make them scream, to make the rest of us come out. They say they'll spare us if we do, but they won't. It's all a game.'

'A game?' Sam's ear was pressed to the door by that point, listening intently.

'They said the town was theirs, their playground. It sounded... like they were waiting for something.'

'Ma'm, please,' Sam urged, 'do you have any idea of how many demons there are?'

'Five, maybe ten, I don't know. They'd jump from person to person. I've been in here since day one, but I hear things.' Since the woman obviously knew about demons and salt, maybe she was the resident psychic, or maybe the demons went around town taunting the people who had managed to hide. It was all a game, he thought, and felt cold dread at idea of living like this for so long.

'Me and my brother are going to take care of this,' Sam told her. A hollow promise, perhaps, but he had made those before.

'Get out,' the woman repeated. Suddenly, the door opened a crack, a chain keeping Sam from pushing it further. The cat slipped in and the door slammed shut immediately. Sam noticed the cat hadn't disturbed the salt.

He left for main street to find Dean.

He saw Movie World, located seemingly at the end of the main road, though it was really where the main street turned in a ninety degree angle, before turning again almost immediately and continuing on through the rest of the town. The Saturn-like planet that sat on top of the building, beckoning. Behind him the Impala sat undisturbed. He returned to it first and popped the trunk, grabbing spray paint and the can of salt. He found a bag to carry it in and slung it tight over his shoulder so it stayed on his back and didn't dangle free. He kept watch as he moved quickly and silently back across the street where the buildings were closer together and offered more protection.

His senses were on high alert. He was only wearing a sweat-soaked t-shirt and even in the heat he regretted it. A jacket wasn't really armour, but it gave the illusion of protection. As it was, the knife stuck out in the back of his belt, and the holy water flask bulged his back pocket. He checked that the sawed-off was loaded and picked up the pace.

He kept close to the buildings, moving from door to door and keeping away from the open as much as possible. He didn't want to call Dean on the phone in case the ringtone gave his brother's position away, so he moved forward silently, hoping Dean hadn't gone inside yet.

Crossing the street at the corner, he ran to the front doors of Movie World and plastered himself to the wall next to them. He peaked in through the dirty glass, but couldn't see much of anything. The old popcorn machine was empty, and the doors to the theatre itself were closed.

Sam could hear something, though. A whimpering? At first he thought it might be a wounded animal, but he slowly realised it was a person. Someone was alive in there. The demons were playing.

He considered his options. If Dean had reached Movie World, or found someone else in hiding who had told him about it, he had likely taken the back door. The only question was, did the demons know they were there? Approaching a town like this unnoticed was virtually impossible- you could hear and see the Impala coming miles away. But if they had been playing inside this place, maybe...

Sam freed the bag from his back and got out his supplies. He drew demon traps at both of the double glass doors on either side of the ticket booth. He made them big, enough to hold several demons in each. The white paint wasn't that visible in the grey pavement, so maybe they would get lucky.

He stuffed the canister back in the bag, shouldered it and rose, turning to go round back, but instead he walked right into a hand that seized his throat. He dropped everything immediately.

Before he could even gasp for breath the hand clutched so hard he couldn't breathe, he struggled to find purchase against the hand, and when that didn't work he grabbed the arm attached to it.

'There you are,' the demons said. It was a man, about forty with most of his hair gone and wrinkled from years in the sun. He wore overalls and had a name tag that said "Steve", but Steve wasn't home right now. 'We wondered where you'd got to.'

Sam thankfully still had his feet on the ground as the meat suit wasn't tall enough to lift him by the throat. He kicked out hard, catching the demon right in the stomach and sending him flying into the ticket booth wall. The force of the kick sent Sam off balance too, and he landed hard on his ass.

He gasped for air as he reached for the shot-gun with one hand and the knife in his belt with the other. The demon growled when he saw the shot-gun and charged him. Sam lifted the gun- the demon grabbed the short barrel and pulled hard, expecting resistance, but Sam gave none. The demon's arms flew over its head with the excess force and Sam's other hand shot out, knife already poised, and stabbed the demon right in the gut, all the way down to the hilt.

The demon froze in surprise and stared down stupidly at the knife lodged deep in its stomach. Sam hurried to his feet.

'Are you stup-' Realisation dawned as the demon realised the wound was effecting it. Sam pulled it out and the demon dropped the gun, but it was too slow now. Its clumsy hands reached for Sam's face as the hunter drove the knife through the demon's throat to finish it off, and prevent it from calling for help. Blood rushed out and the demon gasped soundlessly, clawing at Sam's face, but his arms were just an inch too short. Sam saw the flickering lights that meant it was dying and pulled the knife out, letting the body drop to the ground. Its head made an ugly slapping sound as the bloody side hit the pavement, like a fish on a ship deck.

Sam stared at it for a moment, wondering if the old mechanic had been awake for that last part. Then he looked at the knife still his hands, blood everywhere. He looked at the doors, still showing nothing but an empty lobby. He wiped at his face with his clean arm, but it came away still clean so he hoped he didn't have any on his face.

The blood slowly dripped from the knife, hitting the pavement. Sam noticed the sound and stared.

It was the first time they had fought demons since Eric's disappearance.

There were four to nine left. No chance, right? No hope. Eric wasn't there. He wouldn't be sprinting in at the last moment, a blur of movement so fast even the demons started to hesitate. And where was Dean? Already caught? Already dead?

'Sammy.' The voice was a barely audible hiss from across the street. When Sam looked up he realised he had the knife halfway to his mouth, and for a frozen moment he was scared shitless of his own actions. He hastily wiped as much blood as he could on the dead demon and got his belongings together before sprinting across the street to Dean, who was hiding just round the corner of what had once been a grocery store.

'Dude, you okay?' Dean asked, eyeing the still bloody knife and right hand. Another reason to wear a jacket, you had more places to wipe.

'Fine.'

'You find out where the party is too?' Sam nodded, leaning against the wall, out of sight from Movie World. Dean surveyed the front doors for a moment before turning to face Sam fully.

'An old lady told me to get out of town,' Sam said.

'Found an old bomb shelter under the gas station,' Dean supplied, 'with an old dude screaming "I told you so."'

'Demons or nukes,' Sam snorted bitterly, 'doesn't make a difference when the world's ending.'

'Not yet,' Dean growled, glancing back round the corner to make sure no one had come out yet. 'I ganked a demon too, just when I came out.'

'How'd you manage that?'

'Get this, the guy had a demon trap painted on the ceiling in the gas station. I kicked the sucker through the door, it landed right in the middle of it, and I exorcised it.'

'Someone was giving them pointers,' Sam surmised. 'Maybe the old lady. She had a psychic vibe to her.'

'Whoever it was, it saved my ass,' Dean admitted. 'So, we're two down, three or eight to go depending on how lucky we are...' Dean's eyebrows rose as he contemplated the odds. 'Doesn't look good.'

'They could be anywhere,' Sam pointed out on top of everything else, making Dean sigh. 'The one I ganked was looking for us.'

'Probably saw us coming a mile off,' Dean hit the wall in frustration, 'why did we do this?'

'Cause there's no other way into town,' Sam said, 'we couldn't have sneaked in if we tried.' Dean nodded reluctantly and glanced back again. He was making Sam nervous, but he knew they had to keep watch.

'You finished those demon traps?' he asked.

'Yeah, both doors are covered.'

'Awesome, let's head round back and do one there, then sneak in and scope out the situation. If we're lucky, we can have ourselves a demon hunting party.'

'Both in back, or?'

'Your pick,' Dean graciously offered. Sam sighed and looked past Dean to the entrance.

'I'll take the front,' he said, handing over the bag with paint and salt. Dean took it and headed round the building so he could cross the street further down the road. Sam decided he might as well cross here. If they were inside they weren't going to see him approach, and if they were outside, they weren't getting in. He hoped Dean managed the demon trap before one of them found him.

He passed the slain demon with a mild grimace of disgust, making sure that it wouldn't bleed all over the demon trap. He pushed the door and it swung in without much noise. Inside, he could hear the whimpering noise much clearer.

He quickly decided against just going into the theatre itself and found a door marked "Employees Only." He mounted the stairs to the projectionist's room.

At the top of the stairs he found a door, and opened it just a crack. The room appeared empty so he slipped inside. It was filled with around a dozen big canisters of film, and both big projectors were open as if someone was just about to put in a new film to show. Sam approached the nearest one and crouched down so he could very carefully look through the opening for the projector.

He could see the theatre, but the canvas the projector should be aimed at was gone; ripped down and pushed down into the front row. The stage was fully exposed, and what it held made Sam's stomach roll.

Several people were strung up on ropes that were probably once used to haul set pieces or sway the occasional cute angel at nativity plays. Now they held people in tatters, some upside down, others by the arms, one by his throat. Around six in total, all half-dressed and bloody, a few with their insides flowing out. A couple of them were alive, hence the whimpering. Another couple of bodies lay deceased on the stage itself, in different stages of mutilation.

In the corner of the stage lay several pillows and big draperies bunched together, also probably once used for a community theatre production. The pile held two occupants, heavily engaged in kissing as though the scene in front of them didn't concern them. Sam suspected they might be demons. He had noticed demons tended to like sex. He doubted they got much of it in hell.

Several heads were sticking up in the first few rows. At first he thought they were more demons, but the thought of so many of them sitting quietly was frankly impossible. He realised they had to be people. Dead people. Discarded one after the other as the game continued. Propped up as a sort of sick pantomime of an audience.

He really wanted to puke at that moment.

A door banged somewhere, rousing the two kissing demons: A young girl, wearing a very lovely summer dress, and a young male wearing what looked like a store uniform. They looked off stage right, and Sam wished he could see, but he was too high up.

'Amy?' the female demon called. Sam couldn't remember having read of a demon named Amy, but there were probably enough in hell to fill the whole world. A yell was heard - it might have been Dean, Sam feared- and then a gun went off. Sam knew the sound of that gun. There was a strange silence as the two demons stared at in the direction of the sound, and then at each other. They suddenly sprung into action, but only go as far as on their feet before they heard a scream, a demon's scream; the kind they make when they're being exorcised. Go Dean, Sam thought with relief. His brother was one badass hunter.

'You go check,' the female demon told the other. He appeared to weigh his options for a moment before striding purposefully towards stage left. Sam decided he might as well make his move and hurried back the way he came.

He managed to open the door to the theatre without making much noise. He stuck his head in and saw the female demon standing on the stage, looking off in the direction where her mate had gone. Sam slipped inside as silently as possible, crouching down and moving quickly down the aisle. When he got as far as he dared, he slipped into one of the rows next to a dead guy and slumped as best he could in his seat, slipping the shotgun into the mess of a jacket the dead guy was wearing, while keeping the knife for himself. The whimpering on stage kept a steady pitch, so Sam hoped they hadn't noticed him.

He was just in time to play dead before he heard the sounds of more fighting.

'Look what I found!' the male demon's voice was filled with delight, and Sam opened his eyes just the tiniest of slits. Dean came tumbling onto the stage, gliding several feet across towards the girl, who looked down at him curiously.

'You're the one with the car,' she said. Dean, on his back with a bloody face - though Sam couldn't say from what wound - stared up at her balefully.

'He's a hunter,' the other demon said, coming onstage with a smirk on his face.

'Even better,' she said, grinning. 'Fresh meat and a hunter too, perfect.' She drew out her "r" like a purring cat, crouching down by Dean and reaching out to stroke his cheek. He flinched at her touch.

'I told you no one visits this town,' the male demon said. 'That's why she gave it to us.' He -the meat suit- was really just a boy, probably barely seventeen. 'We should have all gone to check the second we heard him roll into town, and now Amy's been sent back downstairs, and who knows what's happened to the others.' She spared him a bored glance.

'I'm sure they're around. One hunter is hardly enough to kill three of us.' She tilted her head to one side, eyes on Dean. 'What's your name, little hunter?'

Sam didn't hear what Dean muttered, but the girl was disappointed. She stood, going over to one of the hanging bodies, one of the dead ones. 'Let's string him up. I'm bored with these townsfolk.'

'There's more,' the other demon said. 'He's sprayed a demon's trap at the backdoor.'

'Check the entrance,' she ordered and he hurried down the stage steps and up the aisle, right past Sam, who remained dead to the world. The girl started pulling the dead body down. It hit the floor with a squishy thud. Sam thought he could see movement from Dean, but wasn't sure. He hoped his brother was watching the girl, waiting for the right moment. The door to the theatre banged open.

'He's done the front too!' the boy cried.

'You little shit,' the demon bitch said, dropping the rope and advancing on Dean. 'You'll be washing those off.' The boy was coming down the aisle, and just as he passed Sam, both brothers reacted.

Sam rose from his seat as fast as he could, knife out, but the demon was just quick enough to block with his arm. The knife cut in deep, though, and the demon screamed in pain and surprise. The sound was drowned out, however, by the screaming from the girl demon.

Dean had whipped out his holy water flask just as she had reached for him, and she was now clawing at her face, blinded momentarily by the sting of holy water.

The demon Sam was battling grabbed Sam's knife-wielding arm and twisted it, only just shy of breaking it. Sam spun with the twist as much as he could to prevent himself from dropping the knife. He punched at the demon, but it was too strong. It grabbed his jaw, nails digging into his cheeks, and brought Sam's face close to his own, leaving Sam in a very painful position.

'We thought we'd have to wait until the Apocalypse before we got to play with the likes of you,' it hissed.

The other demon's screams reached a new height and distracted the one holding Sam enough to look up. Dean was sitting on her, pouring holy water in her mouth and muttering an exorcism. The boy demon growled. Sam gritted his teeth and moved.

He twisted out of the hold and rammed the demon with as much force as he could. They hit the floor hard, Sam rolling to the right so he could grab the knife with his left hand. His right arm was dislocated and would be useless. The demon raised his hand, probably to try and do the telekinesis trick, but Sam reared up on his knees and stabbed it just in time, right in the chest.

Dean came flying into the rows, landing on one of the dead audience members.

Sam got to his feet, turning to face the girl demon. She stood on stage, face red from her own clawing as much as the holy water, and looked furious.

Dean was scrambling out of the row and Sam put the knife between his teeth long enough to grab the shot-gun from its hiding place. He threw it as his brother, who caught it gratefully.

They ended up one in each aisle, weapons at the ready, waiting to see what she would try. Was she powerful enough to do telekinesis? Sam doubted it.

'We swore we would wait here, like nice little demons,' she told them. She sounded almost sad or frustrated like a kid who hadn't gotten a birthday cake. 'She said we could have this town to play until she called us. Why did you have to ruin it!' With that she opened her mouth and spewed herself out of the meat suit. The black smoke rose up, probably to find an air-duct to escape through.

Sam sighed, his shoulder smarting, and looked over at Dean. They were surrounded by dead people, and both of them wore expressions suitable for the occasion. Dean had a few scratches and a bloody nose.

A whimpering caught their attention.

They both rushed the stage.

In the end none of the people in Movie World made it. There was too much damage done, and too far to the nearest hospital.

Sam and Dean made the rounds, checking for any remaining demons, and when they found none they went knocking on doors to see how many people had managed to hide. About a dozen people had, and they all left town together, none of them even going inside Movie World to check for loved ones. It was as if they had just been waiting for permission to leave. They looked as zombie-like as Sam felt. Only the old woman who had warned Sam came up to the boys, both leaning against the Impala and watching as the townsfolk got a couple of pick-up trucks ready for the journey.

'Thank you,' she said and patted Sam's hand. Nothing more was said. The brothers watched the pick-up trucks grow smaller and move closer to the horizon. The sky was brilliant with reds as the sun set. Finally, they got in the car and drove back out of town the way they had come.

They only stopped when they were back on the highway so Dean could reset Sam's shoulder, and then they kept going, east and north, into the night and towards the cold.

XXX

'So, that was awful.'

Dean's first words came out of the blue one day later and one state across on the map. 'Looks like Lilith is preparing her army.'

'Yeah,' Sam replied dully. He was stuck in the passenger seat, even though he felt like driving, because of his shoulder.

'She's giving them fun stuff to do while they wait,' Dean said, but Sam couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or just disgusted. He felt Dean was sending him glances every so often, so obviously he was going to nag again, only it didn't feel like it usually did. He felt tense, and that made Sam's shoulder ache. What was his brother up to? He decided to ignore it. The vegetation was a nice change, so he stared as it.

'You did good back there,' Dean commented, just this side of condecending. Sam sent him a look, which Dean convieniently missed by staring at the road ahead.

'Thanks,' Sam decided to mutter, just this side of sarcastic. For one sharp moment he wished things could be as they had been. There had been a time when they would drag things out of each other whenever they had issues, but everything was different. They both had secrets they didn't want exposed, and even if Eric was gone, somewhere, it was like he was still sitting right between them.

'You got that demon outside Movie World good,' Dean continued, far too casual to be casual. Sam's stomach dropped.

'Yeah, thanks,' he said, knowing he sounded way too uncomfortable, but failing to hide his guilt. He hadn't even considered- hell, he hadn't even been aware of what he was doing himself.

'What were you doing right after you killed him?' Dean asked, voice low and inscrutable, eyes on the road.

'I- I'm not sure what you're asking,' Sam said. 'You showed up right after, so I ran to you. You were there.' Dean looked at him with that sideways glance of his. Sam had always wished he knew that trick: Dean somehow managed to look Sam straight in the eye, yet he had barely turned his head. That sideways glance had pulled many a confession from Sam in his younger years. It was less effective now, but it still creeped him out.

'You were holding the knife, Sam,' Dean explained slowly, 'and you were bringing it to your lips.'

'What?' Sam huffed, sounding surprised. 'I- that's- That's crazy.'

'Is it?' Dean asked.

'Yes, why, you think I'm really a vampire?' Sam challenged. 'Eric somehow managed to change me without you noticing?'

'No,' Dean shook his head. 'It's not human blood you're after.'

'What?'

'At the house where the vampires were working with the demons,' Dean reminded him, 'you got demon blood on your face and practically freaked out.'

'I didn't.' Sam's voice was too quiet to stop Dean.

'Eric had to pull your back together,' Dean was on a roll now. 'You've been telling me over and over how Eric saved you from Ruby, got you to see how she was manipulating you, but it was more than that, wasn't it?'

'No.' Sam shook his head when Dean glanced at him. His brother pulled the car sharply to the side of the road and stopped. Sam knew it was all going to blow up. Dean parked and turned in the seat to face him. His eyes were hard, and Sam knew he would see disappointment if he looked in deeply them.

'Just tell me the truth,' Dean ordered. Sam fidgeted in his seat, palms sweaty. He swallowed several times. Finally, he forced the words between his teeth, the only ones that would come.

'I messed up.'

'You messed up?' Dean repeated, his voice barely staying on the calm side.

'You were gone, Dean,' Sam tried desperately. 'I hadn't seen Eric in weeks. I was all alone and Ruby-' Dean's sudden departure from the car cut Sam off. He hastily followed. Dean walked several yards down the road, though Sam decided to stop by the front of the car. He watched as his brother took several deep breaths, hands on his hips as if he was about to bend over and hurl.

'I thought it would make me strong,' Sam tried. 'Ruby convinced me I needed it to kill Lilith.' Dean was facing away from him, but he could see the shake of the head, the hard set of the shoulders; all signs Dean was too angry to respond. His head came up, as if he was looking at the nice clouds passing by overhead.

'So you decided to drink demon blood.' He turned slowly and walked with measured steps towards the car. 'That was logical to you?'

'Yes,' Sam said, the barest stings of anger flashing in his eyes. 'Yes, goddammit, Dean. I thought Ruby wanted Lilith dead too, I believed her, and I listened to her advice.'

'So when Eric showed up and ganked her, you just stopped drinking?'

'He showed up, threw me out of the motel room and exorcised Ruby,' Sam explained, wanting the whole story straight. 'I was pissed, like I told you, and he disappeared. A week later I was... I was feeling withdrawal symptoms.'

'You were jonseing for another hit of demon blood,' Dean surmised. Sam clenched his fists, jaw working.

'Eric helped me detox. He did everything, held my hair while I was sick, fed me when I could eat again. I don't even know how long it took. I was hallucinating half the time. When I came back, I realised my mistake.'

'But you still want it,' Dean's words cut into him. 'You almost licked the damn knife!'

'But I didn't!' Sam insisted. 'Look, Eric explained I'll always be more susceptible to the blood because of what Yellow Eyes did to me. The blood has always been in me, but I can fight it. It's just been hard without him here to remind me.'

'You need your vampire to keep off demon blood,' Dean spat, 'well, that's healthy.'

'Fuck you, Dean,' Sam spat right back. 'It's not like you're the picture of mental health here.' Sam spread his hands wide to illustrate what a fucked-up pair they really made. 'You're having nightmares about hell practically every time you close your eyes. Why don't you tell me what happened down there and then you can ask me out about my addiction.'

'Addiction? You make it sound like you drank too much whiskey after work!' They were full on shouting now, the empty road and trees their only witnesses.

'You have no idea how much of an addiction it is.' Sam found himself yelling his confession as if it was a string of insults. 'I want it every time I look at a demon, when I see their eyes, when I see the blood,' Sam gasped the words out. 'Because of how it made me feel, like I could do anything, save everyone. But I won't because I know it's just a trick. I'm strong enough without it,' Sam finally let go of his anger and his voice lowered along with it. 'Eric taught me that.'

Dean watched Sam through his eyelashes during the whole little speech. Sam fell silent and stared back, feeling hopeless. He wished he knew if any of that had gotten through. Even if it hadn't, it had been cathartic to say. Dean's eyes lowered to the road.

'You love him,' he said quietly.

'You don't need to tell me how fucked up it is to love a vampire,' Sam pointed out. 'Believe me I've already gone through all the agonising on my own.'

'What is it with you and supernatural creatures?' Dean asked, only half serious, eyes still downcast. Sam decided to ignore the question, and it appeared it hadn't been a serious one when Dean continued. 'I'm sorry he's gone.'

'He's not,' Sam bit out. Dean ignored him this time. He gave a long sigh.

'I don't know how to handle this.' Before Sam could ask for specifics, Dean gestured between them. 'You. The blood. Eric.' Sam didn't know what to say to that. He was terrified Dean would leave him, right there by the side of the road. It was a distinct possibility in Sam's mind. A calm Dean could be an unpredictable Dean.

'I won't drink it,' Sam insisted. 'Ever again.'

'He was there, when I wasn't.' Dean seemed almost to be talking to himself. Sam frowned. 'I was-' Dean shook his head at the road. 'I was in hell, doing something much worse.'

'What are you talking about?' Sam had seen his brother cry before, but it always scared him, and seeing a tear fall from Dean's eye made him distinctly uncomfortable. Was Dean still mad at him? Would he welcome comfort? Probably not, demon blood issues or not. Sam was at a loss, but at least they were talking, about everything.

Maybe they could get past their secrets.

Then Dean told him about hell.

XXX

_'I tortured people in hell, and I enjoyed it.'_

Sam honestly didn't know what to think. He'd done things he was ashamed of, things normal people would find reprehensible, but he couldn't relate to his brother's story. He tried to understand, and he didn't blame Dean. Forty years in hell- it was truly incomprehensible to him.

That didn't stop him from catching himself looking at Dean with a new look.

After Dean's confessions, with all their secrets laid out between them, there was nothing more to say. They went a week drifting from town to town looking for cases that turned out to be explainable phenomena or human villains. Sam dreamt about Eric, Dean's nightmares seemed to increase for a while.

If the Winchesters were to have a creed, a motto, it would be "family first", but it wouldn't really be true. It would be words to say, to swear allegiance to, but not true in the sense that it's what the Winchesters did.

Dad chose the demon over them. He didn't talk to them for almost a year, because he was selfish. Dean was selfish too when he made the deal. Sam was selfish when he drank Ruby's blood despite swearing to Dean he wouldn't get help from Ruby anymore after he was gone.

Their selfishness made them sacrifice themselves, for the greater good and for each other. A paradox, perhaps, but truer than anything else in their lives, Sam thought.

Their motto should be: "It's easier to die fighting than to talk about it."

It's easier to go to hell than let your brother die.

It's easier to drink blood than admit you feel weak.

It was easier for them to go their separate ways, than to admit their relationship was screwed up beyond repair.

After a week of barely talking, things had to arrive at some sort of precipice. Naturally, a demon was involved. They were having dinner in a diner by the side of the road going north to Bobby's. They were only a few hours off, but Dean had pulled over after too many stomach rumbles from Sam.

They place only had two other costumers when they arrived, and one of them left shortly after. The waitress was a middle-aged fake-blond with a uniform that looked like it belonged in a costume store. Sam didn't pay her any mind, though, just focused on his coffee, praying the food would come quickly. It wasn't until the other patron left them all alone that he started listening.

There wasn't any noise. Not a sound.

He looked over the counter and leaned forward a little across the table to glimpse through the opening to the kitchen. Dean, sitting across from him in the booth, leaned backwards at the same time to look as well. They both jumped slightly when the door to the kitchen swung open and the waitress came through. She wasn't bringing their food.

Her walk was different as well - a small thing to notice, but important - it wasn't the walk of a middle-aged woman old before her time. She swaggered over to them, hands on her hips, smirking devilishly.

'I've been waiting for you Winchesters to roll by here on your way to ol' Bobby's for ages,' she told them. Sam was as tense as he could be, but he hesitated to reach for the knife in his breast pocket. 'Didn't know you'd actually be stopping here.'

'Do we know you?' Dean asked.

'No, but I sure know you two,' she said, then she frowned, almost pouted and put on an air of disappointment. 'But where's the third wheel? He's the one I want.' Sam automatically exchanged a glance with Dean, it was instinct, and they both silently agreed Dean would answer. It took less than a second.

'You mean Bobby?' Dean asked.

'You know, playing dumb really suits you, Dean,' she told him snarkily. Dean's jaw worked, but he let the insult slide off. 'I meant the vampire.'

'Why do you want him?' Sam asked.

'He deserved some play-time with us. He's ours now,' she explained, 'we want him back.' Sam tried to tell his heart not to run off on him. 

'Well, you can't have him,' he managed to bite out.

'Fine,' she tutted, 'then I'll settle for you two.' She was quick on the draw, lashing out at Sam's throat quick as a cat, but Sam was prepared, and either she didn't know about the knife, or she hadn't anticipated Sam carrying it around all the time. Together, the two hunters made quick work of her.

The body of the waitress ended up on their table, a big red stain on her uniform. Sam swore she saw her blink and try to speak, but his fingers didn't register a pulse and the wound was far too deep anyway. Dean had immediately gone to check out the kitchen. He returned just as Sam closed her eyes.

'The cook's dead,' he said. 'Must have killed him the second she made us.'

'You think the demons working with the vampires are also working for Lilith?' Sam asked.

'I don't know.'

'Eric got away,' Sam said, staring at the bloody waitress, willing her to wake up and tell him more. Dean came to stand beside him. Sam felt hollow, like he had betrayed Eric by not being even more adamant about his survival.

'She could be lying.'

'Why would she lie about that?'

'Because demons love to fuck with us,' Dean sighed. He wiped at his face, probably to check for blood. Sam did the same, using his right hand still holding the knife. It was covered in blood. Sam had planned to use the back of his hand to wipe at his jaw when Dean's hand shot out and grabbed it. Their eyes met. Sam wrenched his hand away.

'Jesus Christ, Dean,' he muttered, stalking away towards the exit. He needed air. He wiped the knife on his jeans uncaringly and put the knife back in its hiding spot. Dean was hot on his heels as he approached the car.

'Sam, wait,' Dean grabbed his shoulder. Sam spun around, knocking the hand away.

'I wasn't going to drink it!'

'I know.'

'Do you?'

Dean didn't answer, and that was more than enough for Sam. He walked around the car and got in. They didn't speak, but they didn't drive to Bobby's either.

XXX

'Maybe you shouldn't be hunting.'

'I'm going to find Eric.'

'Let's just take a break from each other, cool off.'

And then there were words they didn't say.

I can't look at you.

I don't believe you.

I don't trust you.

You're practically a demon.

You tortured people in hell.

You drank their blood.

Sam didn't know who said what, or left what unspoken. He was going to find Eric, or at least find out what happened to him. He had to know. It was a good reason to leave, he felt.

If that had been the only reason, he could have understood his brother. Of course Dean didn't want to put hunting on hold to find one man missing in action. It was the Apocalypse, and even Sam felt guilty for leaving. But it wasn't just that. They needed time away.

They needed to fucking stick together, Dean thought, but that was impossible. Sam wanted to find Eric, and Dean couldn't find it in him to stop his little brother.

Sam needed Eric. It was as simple as that. He didn't need Dean, not right now. Maybe when Sam had finally accepted that Eric was probably dead and buried, or burned, then he'd come back and Dean could put his little brother back together like when after Jessica died. He didn't know much about that kind of heartache, but he had gone through it with Sam before, and they would get through it again.

He knew the looks Sam sent him before he walked away. He could read them easily enough.

Sam thought he didn't trust him. He thought he hated him for drinking the blood, but he didn't. How could he? Sam had gotten an addiction, been saved, overcome it, and fallen in love. In just four months. All while Dean wasn't there. Technically, it was all his fault.

And he could see other looks too. The ones that said "how could you?" He would never be able to explain, because you couldn't explain hell. He couldn't explain the pleasure in torture to anyone who hadn't been at that level of pain.

So they parted, and maybe it was good. Maybe it would save them in the end.

XXX

Some places you always know you will return to, some you don't, some you hope for -tossing a coin in a fountain as if it will influence your future travel plans- and some you hope with all your heart you'll never seen again.

Fangtasia wasn't any of those places. It was a dead end, a last stop on a hopeless case, but Sam was determined to reach every end. The car he had stolen a handful of states ago was in bad shape, but he prayed she'd last in and out of the vamp-county.

He hadn't spoken to Dean in almost two weeks. It felt like two months. He'd gone back to the scene of the crime, retraced his first attempt at finding Eric, and then he had admitted to himself he only had one place left to check. Usually, he liked the long road, but this time it felt like America was getting bigger just to spite him.

He stopped by Merlotte's in Bonstemps since it was still light out. The place seemed much as it had the last time he had been there. There was a very pretty blond girl tending tables, and a young redhead playing hostess. There were a fair few locals in to have dinner. The very pale redhead approached and asked if he wanted a table.

Sam stared at her, all his muscles tensing. Maybe it was hypocritical, but Sam's hunter instincts still reacted at the sight of a vampire, even though she appeared to just be a waitress. It sure was a vamp-friendly town this Bonstemps.

'Sir?' she prompted when his silence became prolonged. His brow furrowed in slight embarrassment at the "Sir"; surely he wasn't that much older than her? Hell, she could be older than him- but no, she didn't feel old, like Eric.

'Sure,' he answered and she led him to an empty booth and lay a menu in front of him. He looked up at her, noting her friendly smile.

'You're a vampire,' he said, softly so that only she could hear. Her smile dropped slowly off her face. 'I don't mean anything by it. I just wondered if you knew the place called Fangtasia?'

'Oh, I don't go there,' she stuttered, shaking her head, but Sam could tell she had been there, in the same way teenagers snuck out to rave parties. Jesus, she really was a fledgling.

'Do you know the owner?' Sam asked casually.

'Pam? Sure,' she said.

'I meant the previous owner,' Sam corrected. She got an odd look on her face.

'Eric,' she said softly. 'He's gone.'

'Gone?'

'He's been missing for over six months, I think...' she trailed off as she thought back, then suddenly glanced at him suspiciously.

'Please, I'm a friend,' Sam told her in his most sincere voice. She threw a cautionary glance over her shoulder and leaned down closer.

'They say the Authority took him, for killing another vampire, the king-'

'Of Mississippi,' Sam finished.

'You know?' she asked sharply.

'I know some,' he admitted. 'But not enough.' He rose abruptly. 'Thanks,' he told her before pushing his way past and making his way outside into the fresh air. He stood for a moment and breathed. He had forgotten about the vampire organization. What if Eric had escaped the demons only to get caught by his own kind?

He had to ask Pam, just to be sure.

Fangtasia looked exactly the same; the same teenage fangbangers outside, desperate to get in, and definitely the same bouncer, looking Sam over with a hungry gaze. Inside the crowd seemed thinner, however, and there was a depressed or nervous air that lay over the heads of the patrons, as if the music was just a few decibels lower or the lights not quite as dim- fewer corners to hide in -though Sam couldn't really tell.

Was it just him, or was there a distinct lack of actual vampires in the place? There were a couple of young ones holding a small court in a corner, showing off to their adoring fangbanger fans.

The raised platform was empty; the thrown-like chair was gone. Sam had almost expected Eric to be sitting right where he had been that first night, long legs stretched out in front of him, eyes intense and all-seeing even in the dark club. But there was nothing there, and no one approached it either, except Sam.

He didn't step up on it, just stared at the empty space for a long while, until a presence was felt at his side.

'Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't suck you dry right here,' a female purred in his ear. Sam didn't move; he had expected to be made as a hunter the second he entered.

'I'm a friend of Eric's,' he told her.

'I know who you are,' she hissed, causing Sam to look at her. So this was Pam. She seemed a bit frazzled for a vampire, like she was over-working herself, but she was still beautiful, and no fledgling. Sam suppressed his shiver at her closeness. Her eyes were full of accusation. 'You're the reason for everything,' she spat at him.

'What are you talking about?'

She seemed to hesitate, biting back an angry retort before pulling herself together and presenting him with a disdainful look.

'Come with me.' She spun on her very long heel and marched away, plowing a path instantly through the observing onlookers. Sam followed obediently, curiosity and caution warring within him.

The office she guided him to was strangely normal. Sam hadn't quite accepted that the vampires actually ran a legitimate business, but the file cabinets and work-covered desk confirmed it. It looked a bit jumbled, as if it had just been ransacked, but Sam suspected it had something to do with Pam's tiredness. She turned to face him, leaning back against the desk and folding her arms across her chest. She looked every bit the angry boss.

'Why did you have to drag Eric into all of it?' she demanded.

'Into what?'

'What do you think?' she snarked. 'Into your damn Apocalypse.'

'You- you know about that?'

'Every vampire older than a toddler knows about it. The whole system is collapsing, all thanks to you.'

'Me?'

'You and your kind,' she gave him such a look of contempt Sam started to feel really guilty. He knew he had been the cause of Eric losing everything, but he hadn't considered the wider ramifications, though surely she was exaggerating? 'I was never a fan of the Great Revelation, but it was better than the alternative.'

'Alternative?'

'But now the Authority is gone, and no one knows who they can trust,' she carried on as if she hadn't heard him. 'And there are demons and creatures everywhere, all out for blood, in the open. It won't be long before the whole world goes to hell. And it all started the night you came here, looking for your brother. I told Eric not to help you, two hunters out for his head, but no, you were different.' She pushed away from the desk and started pacing. 'Then the Authority came looking, accusing him of working with demons!'

'Pam, please,' Sam tried to cut in, but once again she barreled over him.

'As if Eric would ever work with hell-spawn, the idea is ludicrous! But he didn't come back after that...' she finally ran out of steam, her back to him, head down.

'Pam, please,' Sam tried again, 'I need to find him. He's gone missing. He was captured, by demons, but I know he escaped. Has he tried to contact you?'

She was silent for a long moment. What wasn't she telling him? The stiff back told him nothing. Then a voice came drifting through from the open door to Sam's left, leading presumably to further storage or perhaps the basement.

'You lied.' Both of them spun towards the door. Only Sam gasped in surprise.

'Eric.'

The vampire was leaning heavily against the door-frame, skin sickly pale even for a vampire, with dark circles under his eyes, which were very bloodshot. He was wearing a dirty grey t-shirt and jeans, and staring quite fixedly at Pam, who raised her chin defiantly.

'I did what I had to do,' she declared. 'You're not fit to take care of yourself.'

Sam wanted to run to Eric, to embrace him, to feed him even, but he felt confused over the lack of acknowledgement.

'I told you to find Sam Winchester, and here he is, but not by your invitation.'

'Han är inte bra för dig,' she said insistently in Swedish. Sam suspected she was saying something nasty about him. 'Ser du inte? Allt är hans fel!'

'I did not ask your opinion on him,' Eric growled low, showing some strength for the first time. Pam subsided, looked away and then walked out back into the club. Finally, Eric turned his eyes to Sam.

'Sam,' he said, sounding absolutely exhausted. He reached out and Sam reacted immediately, walking straight into the vampire's embrace. He squeezed his eyes shut at the weak hug he received. The important thing, he told himself, was that Eric was alive and in his arms. He grabbed the vampire's shoulder and held him at arm's length to get a look at him. Eric gave a weak smile at Sam's scrutiny.

'Not as handsome as you remember?' he asked.

'Are you all right?' Sam asked.

'As well as can be expected,' Eric sighed. 'I'm a bit tired still, but I'm getting stronger every day. I would have called, but I was out of it for some time. I only made it back here through sheer instinct, I think.'

'You're alive, that's all that matters,' Sam said.

'Oh, they had no intention of killing me,' Eric said with a bitter smile. Sam frowned, but no more information was forthcoming. He closed the distance between them and gave Eric a slightly desperate kiss, which was returned. When they parted, Eric was leaning against Sam, clutching at him.

'It's all going to hell, Sam,' he whispered. The hunter swallowed nervously.

'You mean, more than usual?' he tried to lighten the mood.

'We have to kill Lilith,' Eric told him. He looked up at Sam with eyes that reminded the hunter instantly of his brother for a second. Eyes of a man who had seen hell, or something close to it. Sam wondered what a two thousand year old vampire had to see to get that look. 'Promise me, everything we do from now on goes to killing Lilith.'

'Okay,' Sam agreed at once, 'I promise.' Eric straightened and kissed Sam again, deeper than before. Sam felt out of place in the kiss, and in Eric's grip, weaker than usual. He didn't know what to make of it all. Eric's behaviour made him nervous. What had happened?

'I need blood,' Eric whispered when they parted. 'Real blood.'

'Then take it,' Sam was helpless to say anything else.

'No, no,' Eric shook his head, 'you need your strength. If we're going up against Lilith, you need all the strength you can get.' The vampire buried his face in Sam's neck, but didn't bite. Sam put his arms around his lover, and suppressed the urge to shiver.


	12. Chapter 12

'Sam.'

The hunter turned, surprised to hear her calling him. He wasn't exactly her favourite mortal. She stood awkwardly, looking sad, arms hanging at her sides instead of her usual pose with them on her hips or crossed across her chest. Sam glanced in the direction he had been going, towards his car, but Eric hadn't arrived yet. He turned back and walked over to her.

'Yeah,' he answered. She gave him a long stare. Sam could hear the beat of music inside Fangtasia, and the cries of the protesters in around the front of the club. 

'Take care of him,' she said. Sam frowned.

'Of course,' he replied, slightly suspicious. 

'I mean it,' she told him.

'Okay…' She looked off into the night, hesitating.

'He's not himself,' she admitted softly. 

'He's weak,' Sam pointed out, 'whatever the demons did to him, it took a lot out of him.'

'It's more than that,' she said, shaking her head. She looked him in the eye. 'If you think you know him, you're wrong. He's my Maker, I know him better than a child can know its parents, better than a lover, better than siblings-'

'Okay, I get it,' Sam half-grumbled. She fell silent, which was also very out of character. In the few days Sam had been there she had yelled at him ninety percent of the time, and growled the rest.

'Why is Lilith so important?' she asked him suddenly.

Sam shook his head. He didn't want to go into details about killing Lilith. They didn't even have a plan yet, but Eric wanted to get back on the road, hunting and training, and perhaps find a way to kill her on their journey. 'She's the head of the snake,' he said with a shrug. 

She was right, though, Eric hadn't been himself, but Sam understood how people changed after being in the care of demons for extended periods of time, so he would just allow Eric the time he needed to heal.

XXX

Zeppelin was blaring on the radio, but anyone looking at Dean's face would have thought he was driving in silence. The music was just noise to him, something to fill the Impala with.

'Dean.'

The wheels screeched as Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. He quickly righted his baby and steered her towards the side of the road. He stopped a bit more abruptly than he usually did before turning to his sudden passenger.

'Cas,' he bit out, 'could you not do that?' He sighed when all he received was a blank stare. 'You called over an hour ago, where have you been? What do you want?'

'Where is Sam?' Dean's face turned to stone.

'He's looking for Eric.' Cas looked away, pensive. 'What's going on?' Dean pressed, uneasy with the situation.

'I believe he may be in danger. You must find him and keep him close.'

'What kind of danger?' Dean sat up straighter in his seat.

'Perhaps danger is the wrong word…' Cas murmured.

'Then what?' Dean demanded.

'Can you call him? Ask him where he is?' Dean gritted his teeth to prevent himself from nagging and dug out his phone. He had Sam on speed dial and as he waited for Sam to pick up he watched Cas, whose face was intense, but inscrutable. It was his usual look, basically.

Sam wasn't picking up. Finally, Dean gave up and closed his phone.

'He's not answering,' he whispered, mind racing through a million different types of horrible deaths his brother could have managed to get himself offed by. It would be Dean's fault too; he had known they shouldn't have split up.

'You have to find him,' Cas insisted.

'Just tell me why he's in danger,' Dean growled, eyes burning into the angel. Cas sighed.

'It's Lilith, she wants him dead.'

'A demon that wants us dead,' Dean deadpanned. 'That's not exactly a news flash.'

'She's afraid of Sam,' Cas explained. 'Of what he could, potentially, become.' Suddenly, Dean could read Cas' face perfectly: It wasn't death or pain Sam should fear, it was himself.

'Sam's not going to do anything stupid,' Dean said, though he wasn't entirely sure he believed himself.

'You shouldn't have let him out of your sight,' Cas reprimanded.

'He needed to go after Eric,' Dean argued. 'What was I suppose to do?'

'Go with him.' Dean looked away.

'I couldn't,' he admitted. He heard the flutter of wings and knew the angel had left. He put the Impala into gear and spun up a cloud of dust as he raced away, hopefully towards his brother.

He tried calling, but Sam didn't pick up. He tried again, and again, and again. Finally, he went looking where Sam had most likely gone looking.

XXX

'Not good enough Sam,' Eric told him calmly, eyes blank as he stared down at the large hunter underneath him. Sam panted, struggling instinctively against the hold Eric had on him.

'Let me up,' he gave in at last. Eric stepped away immediately, walking across the large abandoned warehouse to pick up a bottle of True Blood that stood on the table beside the guns and knives. Sam sat up slowly, watching. He pushed away that uncomfortable feeling he had deep in his gut and wiped at the cut on his lip.

'If you want to kill Lilith,' Eric said, taking a large gulp of the True Blood, 'you need to be stronger, faster, more powerful.' Sam had heard the line a hundred times already in just a couple of weeks. Eric had become obsessed with training. They had been hunting too, mostly ghosts and creatures, but Sam knew Eric was constantly on the lookout for demons, even though they hadn't found any yet.

'You know I want to kill her,' Sam replied from the floor. 'I just think we need a plan first.' Eric turned, licking his very red lips and smiled. He put down the bottle and came forward. Sam wished he knew what the vampire was thinking.

'I know how to kill her,' Eric said, holding out his hand. Sam stared up at him.

'How? Why haven't you told me?'

'You are not ready yet,' Eric explained as if to a child.

'And when will I be?' Sam asked, bitterness and sarcasm layering his voice. Eric returned it with a slightly condescending look.

'You'll know,' he replied. Sam huffed in frustration.

'And what makes you the expert?'

'I gained a unique perspective of the demons while in their captivity.' Sam stilled at this. He hadn't asked Eric about his time away, as Sam referred to it in his mind, but he knew it must have been awful. Eric had regained his strength now, but he still sometimes got these odd pained expressions, as if he was trying to hide the pain, but couldn't quite.

Sam took Eric's hand and was pulled to his feet. They ended up rather close, a deliberate move no doubt. Sam didn't hesitate this time and gave Eric the kiss he wanted. It quickly turned hard and devouring.

The rest of evening was scheduled. They barely took the time to pack up and get the stuff in the trunk of Sam's car before they were pushing each other into the motel room just half a mile down the road.

They hadn't had sex more than a couple of times since Eric's recovery, and Sam could already tell things were different. Eric let Sam on top more easily, yet somehow he was still harsher, more rough, as if he let Sam on top only because he thought that would please him, yet still he couldn't fight his animal nature.

Sam couldn't quite decide if he liked it or not. 

They were down to their shorts now, with Sam pushing Eric down into the uncomfortable bed. He kissed his way down Eric's chest and up again, loving the smooth skin.

'Bite me,' Eric whispered just as Sam's lips skipped across the pale neck. The hunter didn't need telling twice and bit teasingly, though never hard enough to breach the skin.

Suddenly, Eric's body grew stiff and the flash of pain was visible on his face. It was gone by the time Sam raised his head to look, but he had felt the stiffness.

'You okay?' he asked.

'Fine, get back to work,' Eric growled back. Sam went back to his task, though Eric remained stiff for a few more seconds.

'Harder,' he urged when he relaxed. Sam kissed and bit. 'Harder.'

Any harder and he would breach the skin, with or without fangs.

'Harder,' Eric gasped. Sam stilled. 'Go on,' the vampire whispered. Sam raised his head again, staring down with confusion. Eric reached up and cupped the side of Sam's face with his left hand, while bringing his right had to his neck. 'You'll be strong,' he said. 'You'll end it all.'

'What are you talking about?' Sam's question came out in a hoarse breath.

'You're special,' Eric told him. 'Lilith fears you-'

'Ruby wanted me to drink-'

'Demon blood,' Eric cut in. His eyes seemed to draw Sam in, like they had that first time, only this time he was afraid in a different way. A more chilling way. 'The demons wanted to keep me from you, because they know you'll be strong with this. Drink.' Eric used his strong nails to cut a small wound in his neck. Blood trickled out. Sam stared at it, feeling the familiar thirst even though he knew he wasn't looking at demon blood.

Would it taste the same? Would it make him feel like Ruby's blood had? Invincible? But this was Eric's blood… surely, that would be even better? Because Sam knew Eric would never do anything to hurt him.

'Trust me,' Eric said.

'I do.' He had to. If he couldn't trust Eric, who was left? Certainly not himself.

Slowly, he lowered his head. When the smell of it hit his nostrils he knew he was gone. The thirst overwhelmed him. He licked a bold stripe across Eric's neck and the first taste was like an explosion of heat and pleasure. It was like demon's blood, only it seemed to hit him even quicker- or perhaps that was just because he had been clean so long.

Sam lost himself in the blood, cradled in his lover's arms.

XXX

When Sam had drunk his fill, Eric pushed him away gently. Sam's eyes flashed, but he went willingly.

'Do you feel it?' Eric asked, eyes roaming over the angular face. Sam's eyes shone with supernatural colours, but they disappeared in the blink of an eye.

'Yeah…' Sam sounded awed. He held up a hand in front of his face, staring at it as if he had never seen it before.

'Do you feel strong again?' Eric asked urgently. Very slowly, Sam shook his head, but he looked uncertain.

'It's not like before….'

'What do you mean?' Eric demanded. He grabbed Sam's chin to make the hunter look at him. 'Tell me.'

'It's different, I feel… weird… and sick.' Sam bolted from the bed, going over to the bathroom. He stopped just in front of the door, hands braced on the door-frame. 'No, it's-'

'What?' Eric asked, rising as well, but appearing hesitant to go over to the mortal.

'I need air,' Sam suddenly decided. He turned abruptly and went for his clothes, putting them on hastily.

'Where are you going?' Eric asked, grabbing a shoulder. Sam shrugged him off. 'Don't you feel strong?'

'Just give me a moment to think, all right?' Sam snapped.

'Hasn't it worked?' Eric pressed. Sam went for the door.

'I'll be back in a moment.' He slammed the door after him, leaving the vampire staring at no one. A phone rang, Eric's mobile. The vampire picked up his discarded jacket to get it out.

"D" said the caller id. He hit reject without hesitating.

Slowly, the vampire went to the small dresser with a mirror hanging above it. He looked at himself. The reflection stared back, with black eyes.

'Why didn't it work?' he asked out loud.

XXX

Sam walked quickly, his long legs taking him across the parking lot and down the street to the warehouse where he and Eric had been training not moments before. He felt… agitated, like he had eaten something to upset him. What if that much vampire blood had done something to him? What if his own demon-infected blood didn't mix well with vampire blood?

He sped up, walking past the warehouse and across a large lot filled with rusty machinery and discarded metal scraps. He stopped by an empty container, leaning against it to breathe for a moment.

Warmth was spreading inside him. He could feel it in his veins, like before with Ruby only slower. He gasped as it reached his extremities. He did feel strong again, like with Ruby, only he lose himself. The usual blurring he'd felt before, like being on a drug, wasn't there. It was as if his body had fought the blood and won.

He felt almost jittery with the strength. A sudden thought occurred to him.

He should call Dean. He needed to talk to him, right now. He had been reluctant to call, even when he'd found Eric, and since Dean hadn't called once since they'd split, Sam hadn't either.

He fished out his phone, shaking his head slightly to clear it. The display seemed a little blurry, but it became clear quickly.

'What are you doing?'

Sam jumped, swore, bumped into the container, swore again and spun around to Eric, who stood watching him with intense eyes.

'I… I'm gonna call Dean,' Sam said, looking down at his phone. Eric's hand came out and covered it.

'What would you tell him?' Eric asked softly. Sam stilled completely.

'I…'

'He'll know,' Eric told him sympathetically. 'He'll know the moment he hears your voice, filled with guilt. He will know and he will not understand.' Sam tried to find words, but there were none. Eric was right. He put away his phone. 'How do you feel?'

'Good,' Sam admitted, more surprised by the second as he felt his strength. 'Great, actually.'

'Good,' Eric agreed, his voice deep. 'We need to find a demon for you to practice your powers on.' He almost turned to go, but Sam stopped him.

'Whoa, wait, what? You mean my strength, right?'

'I mean your powers, the reason the Yellow Eyed Demon chose you.'

'No, no, I can't,' Sam shook his head, turning away. 'That's what Ruby wanted me to do-'

'With her blood, not mine,' Eric pointed out sharply. 'How else do you think you were going to kill Lilith? She's stronger than anything you've gone up against before.'

'But Ruby-'

'Ruby was making you her slave,' Eric explained. 'She used your desire to kill Lilith as the fuel to the fire, but the plan was still sound. She just never intended to let you follow through with it.'

'How do you know all this?'

'I told you,' Eric turned away and started walking, 'my time with the demons was good for something.' Sam reluctantly followed after a few moments. He didn't want to ask Eric about his time away, but a part of him missed the old Eric more than anything.

When they got back to the motel, Eric's phone rang. As usual, he picked it up and rejected the call. He did that a lot.

'Let's pack up,' Eric told him. Sam did as he was told.

XXX

'Goddammit, Sam,' Dean muttered when his call once again failed to go through. He looked across the street at Fangtasia. He didn't really want to go in at all, but he wasn't seeing a whole lot of other options. There was a crowd outside, and they weren't looking too friendly, for vampires that is. They had some pretty unoriginal signs and the chanting was already getting on Dean's nerves.

He got out of the Impala and slammed the door, walking cautiously towards the entrance. He wasn't even going to try sneaking past the crowd. Something about the look in his eyes must have told them not to mess with him, because the crowd parted just enough for him to pass through. He hadn't gotten halfway, however, before there were mutterings.

'Fangbanger.'

'Disgusting freak.'

Dean resisted the urge to tell them he was a hunter, and used to be the only thing standing between these people and getting sucked dry.

'You're going to hell, you know that?' Dean stopped short, knowing he should just move on, but his temper was already short with Sam going off the map. 'You're gonna burn forever,' the voice continued. Dean turned around slowly. The dude was wearing a sweater vest for fuck's sake. He was holding a sign, but Dean didn't care to read it. The man took one look at Dean and visibly swallowed. Dean decided the man wasn't worth it and left the crowd behind. The bouncer looked at Dean with a slight sneer. He was different from the one who had let the hunter in last time.

'We don't want your kind in here.'

'And what kind would that be?' Dean asked with a sarcastic smile.

'No hunters,' the big bad vamp told him.

'Ah, come on now, I've been in here before.'

'No hunters,' the vamp repeated loudly. Dean sighed, stepped up close even though the vamp was taller than him, and fixed him with his best "I'm sick of your crap"-stare.

'I need to talk to the vamp in charge,' Dean told him. 'So I can either go in there with my big ass knife and start cutting off heads till you manage to take me down, or you can go tell your boss that I'm waiting.'

The vamp took one last look at Dean before he opened the door, spoke to another vamp inside before exchanging places with him.

Dean sighed and glanced back at the crowd. They were looking at him like he was insane. They were the ones standing outside a vamp haunt waving insults on signs, and he was the crazy one?

The world really was coming to an end.

XXX

_An abandoned house, somewhere in the middle of  
Arkansas…_

Sam hit the wall hard. Even though it hurt like a bitch, he knew he took the hit easier than before, without his strength. He got up quicker too, and the demon noticed this. Its eyes turned black and it gave a hiss of anger. Sam raised his hand, the action coming back to him as familiar as riding a bike.

For a moment nothing happened. The demon stared at him with curiosity, as if it couldn't quite decide what Sam was trying to do. Sam felt panic grip him. He closed his eyes and summoned up all the strength he had, but it wasn't enough. He reached out to the closest weapon he could find- a sharp piece of wood on the old dusty floor. The demon was slowly coming to the realization that Sam was full of shit and grinned evilly. Just as it was about to charge, Sam launched himself forwards. His weight sent them both to the floor and he stabbed the makeshift stake straight through its neck. It didn't kill it, but it sure pissed it off.

It gargled blood, trying uselessly to scream and rage. Sam lost himself for a moment, staring at the flow of thick red power.

He leaned down and buried his face in it.

Eric watched from across the room, head tilted to the side in contemplation.

The demon managed to push Sam off enough to punch the hunter in the face. Sam reared back, face covered in blood. Eric came forward quickly, but stopped short when Sam raised his hand right in front of the demon's face.

This time the black smoke started flowing immediately. It took only a few seconds before the body of a local carpenter fell to the side, a large hole through his neck.

Sam gasped and tried to calm his breathing. He was feeling the demon blood flowing through him, awakening the old powers. The vampire blood hadn't been enough, he knew now. It could only be demon blood. He looked up at Eric.

'I- I'm sorry,' he found himself saying. Eric reached out and cupped the side of Sam's face.

'No, don't be sorry,' he said softly, smiling even. 'My blood was clearly not enough.' He leaned down, Sam leaning up, and they kissed softly, the blood smearing between them. 'We'll get you more,' he whispered. Sam couldn't feel anything but relief at the thought.

Suddenly, Eric turned away sharply, doubling over in pain. Sam got to his feet, but Eric held up a hand to stop him. The vampire gave several horrible grunts of pain.

'Stay here,' he told Sam and then hurried out the back. Sam looked around him in confusion.

Outside Eric stumbled away from the house.

'Dammit,' he muttered, face contorted in anger and frustration. 'You're too weak!'

He fell to his knees as another spasm seemed to snap through him.

XXX

Dean left Fangtasia feeling even more annoyed and agitated than before. The anti-vampire protester muttered another insult and Dean reacted without thought. He pushed the guy, hard. Luckily for both of them the rest of the crowd caught him. They didn't bother Dean more after that. He got into the Impala and took a deep breath.

Then he hit the steering wheel. Hard.

'Fuck!'

Sam had found Eric, gone off with him and was now God knew where. And he hadn't called.

As fate would have it, Dean's phone chose that exact moment to ring. He managed to drop it in his haste to get it out. By the time he flipped it open he was too panicky to even check the caller ID.

'What?' he demanded into the phone.

'Dean…' a hoarse voice, filled with pain, like he was lifting something really heavy off himself.

'Eric?' Dean asked. If Eric was this bad, where was Sam?

'We're in… Osceola, Arkansas…' Eric bit out through gritted teeth. 'An abandoned house on-' He gave a moan of pain.

'Where's Sam?' Dean asked. 'Eric, is Sam okay?' The line went silent for a long time. Dean almost gave up and hung up when Eric came back on, sounding completely different.

'False alarm, Dean,' Eric said, voice almost sweet. 'Sam is fine. We're both fine.'

'Who are you?' Dean asked, following his instincts.

'It's Eric, my apologies for worrying you,' Eric said.

'Where's Sam?' Dean demanded.

'He's fine. Better than fine, actually. I'm afraid I have to go now. You take care, Dean.'

Dean closed his eyes and threw the phone into the passenger seat. After taking a moment to shove down the overwhelming anger he felt, he put his baby into gear and hightailed it like a bat out of hell towards Arkansas.


	13. Chapter 13

'Come on, Cas. I'm praying as hard as I can here,' Dean muttered, head down and hands folded. The Impala sat by the curb outside a rundown building. Inside, Dean had found several dead bodies, and sulfur, a lot of it. He had tried calling Sam's phone again, but realised that Eric probably had it in his possession, or the SIM card in his own phone. That was why his calls were being rejected all the time. It all came down to two conclusions.

Eric – or whoever it was – had somehow tricked Sam into thinking blood was the only option. His brother was using his powers again.

Which meant Dean didn't really want to be calling Cas, considering the angel had told Sam he'd kill him if he started using his powers again, but what other options did he have?

He had to find Sam, but he didn't even know where to start. They had a whole day's head-start, in any direction. Even if Dean had an army of hunters, the pair could still easily hide. A vampire in this day and age could just check into a hotel and order a supply of True Blood to last a week.

'Dean,' Cas' voice was soft, but Dean still couldn't suppress a slight twitch. The angel was in the passenger seat, looking a little haggard. 'Are you any closer to finding Sam?'

'No, that's why I called,' Dean sighed. 'I think Eric might be possessed.'

'That's not possible,' Cas said with a frown.

'What, why?'

'Vampires are near impossible to posses because their souls are bonded to their bodies differently that with mortals.'

'I'm telling you, Cas, that wasn't Eric on the phone. I mean, it was him, but then the tone of his voice changed. It wasn't him anymore.' Cas looked unconvinced. 'You said near impossible, not totally impossible, right?'

'It's an accepted truth, but in theory it is not utterly impossible...'

Dean sighed, trying to think, but his mind was filled with Sam. His little brother drinking demon blood. When he first heard about Eric, he had been so convinced Sam was hooked on V-blood. Then he found out about Ruby and felt like going into a rage. But ultimately, it was all just a story to him, because he couldn't imagine actually seeing it. Sam was the good one. Picturing him swallowing demon or vampire blood was impossible. 

'You must find him. If he is using his powers-'

'You'll kill him?' Dean hadn't meant to bark it out like that. Cas gave gave him a heavy look.

'When a person drinks from demons, nothing good comes from it,' he said quietly. Like Dean couldn't figured out that for himself, he thought grumpily. 'They can be very convincing.'

'Sam can't know,' Dean said, shaking his head. 'He doesn't know Eric's a demon.' That just meant he thought he was drinking V, which was just about as bad, but in the end meant a bad detoxing, not an angelic assassination. 

'Even if that is the case, we must stop him. If he does not know, you must explain it, convince him.'

'I've been calling him non-stop. I think Eric has his phone...' Dean looked out the window at the building, trying to picture Sam in there, using whatever his powers were. God, he didn't even know what Sam could do past having those weird visions, but they hadn't happened since Yellow Eyes. Jesus, why would Sam go down that road? To kill Lilith, obviously, which they still had to do, somehow-

'We need to find Lilith,' Dean said, looking at Cas. 'That's why Sam got together with Ruby in the first place, right?'

'Yes...' Cas looked uncomfortable, like he was trying to say something, but knew he shouldn't.

'If we find out where Lilith is, that's probably where Sam is heading.'

'Most likely...' Cas was practically mumbling.

'Cas? What aren't you telling me?' Cas looked out the window, eyes almost sad. 'Cas?' Dean had a sinking feeling in his gut.

'You've probably wondered why Ruby was helping Sam kill Lilith.'

'I kinda assumed she just said that to trick him.'

'No, she was quite serious about it.'

Dean waited for the other shoe to drop.

'And?' he finally demanded. 'She wanted Lilith's job? Or another demon running the show? What's the deal?'

'She wanted to start the Apocalypse.' Dean blinked.

'How does killing Lilith do that?' Cas finally turned to look Dean in the eye.

'Lilith is the final seal. Sam's destiny is to kill her and release Lucifer from his cage. The angels want this to happen, and I have been a party to their plans, but...' Dean watched as the usually stoic angel struggled to find the words. He felt like he couldn't breathe. 'I have decided to make what I believe is the right choice. The threat on Sam's life was a ruse. My real task was to find him and make sure he is in the right place at the right time.'

'Wait, wait,' Dean pleaded, a hand coming up to hold his head. 'This is- the angels want it all to happen?'

'Yes.'

'And Sam's-' Dean closed his eyes.

'I'm truly sorry, Dean.'

'For what? That all your brothers are dicks? That the world is so fucked up even the good guys are... a bunch of dicks.' He was having a bad day, he reasoned, so he was allowed to be a little unimaginative with his insults.

'We must find Sam.'

'I heard you the first fifty times!' Dean yelled, then pulled himself together. Yelling at Cas wouldn't do any good. Cas remained silent, thankfully. 'The plan's still sound,' he thought out loud. 'They want Sam to kill Lilith, and he thinks he should. So we find her before Sam does.'

'We might be too late. Sam may be too far gone by then.'

'Well, unless you have any better ideas, that's what I'm gonna do.' Cas didn't say anything, and when Dean looked, he was gone. He sighed, hoping the angel was going demon hunting. He put the car in gear and pointed her towards Bobby. It was a long drive, but he knew he needed the older hunter to find out how to get to Lilith. There just had to be some ritual, someone they could contact, that could lead them to her.

'Hang on, Sammy,' he muttered, 'I'm coming.'

XXX

'I think you're ready,' Eric announced. Sam gazed up from the floor. He had blood running from his nose, dark circles under his eyes, but he looked relieved. He had just gutted three demons simultaneously. Eric held out a hand, which Sam took gratefully. They left the abandoned warehouse. In times like these, empty buildings were easy to come by. As they walked to the car, Sam asked:

'Do you know how to find her?'

'I have an idea,' Eric said cryptically. Sam glanced at him. He reached out and took hold of the pale wrist. Eric stopped and turned towards him.

Sam pulled the vampire towards him and captured his lips in a kiss. Eric kissed back hard. Sam pulled away a little.

'Easy,' he whispered. 'Just... a kiss.' Eric didn't seem to understand. Sam pressed his lips softly to Eric's, holding his head so he wouldn't press back too hard.

Suddenly, the vampire wrenched himself away, doubling over in pain. Sam tried to help, to keep him from falling, but before he could get a grip the vampire jerked, spinning to catch hold around Sam's neck. Sam ended up looking down into wild eyes.

Eric opened his mouth, but no words came out.

'Eric, what's wrong! Please, tell me.' They had never spoken about Eric's pain. Sam felt helpless as Eric stiffened in his arms, his eyes squeezing shut. The hunter looked around them, looking for help, or checking to see if they were alone, he didn't quite know. The road was completely empty, the abandoned buildings not even fit for a hidden vampire hangout.

Just as suddenly as Eric's pain had appeared, it disappeared, and the vampire righted himself abruptly. He smoothed down the fabric of his t-shirt and glanced at Sam.

'I'm all right now,' he murmured and walked around the car to the driver's side. Sam got in, feeling uneasy, but he didn't know what to say. Eric barely waited for Sam to get the door closed before speeding off. Sam watched him as he drove.

They left the decaying industrial side of town and drove into an equally rundown residential area. Sam barely noticed the houses passing by them.

'You know I love you right?' he felt the urge to say. Eric gripped the wheel tight, but didn't reply. 'You can talk to me about what happened to you,' Sam went on, knowing it was stupid to bring it up. Eric was helping him, making him strong and they were going to kill Lilith, so shouldn't he help Eric too? He felt so powerful from the blood, surely he could fix this?

'Just leave it,' Eric snapped. Sam pursed his lips.

'You've done so much for me, can't I just help you talk about this?'

The car's tires screeched as Eric suddenly threw the wheel to the side, hitting the curb hard and jolting the old Cadillac they'd stolen. They flew through an already broken fence and stopped abruptly on the gray front lawn of a house without windows left.

'What the hell did you do that for!' Sam yelled. He had almost hit his head on the dash when Eric had hit the brakes. Eric was leaning against the steering wheel, breathing hard. Sam leaned over and almost touched the vampire's shoulder, but hesitated. 'Eric?'

'Help... me,' Eric's voice rasped out.

'Okay,' Sam said, finally placing his hand on the cold shoulder. 'I'll help you, just tell me what to do.'

Eric shook his head twice quick, then leaned back and reached out. The movement was so fast Sam barely had time to react before Eric was biting his neck. He grunted, half in pain, half pleasure.

'Eric, Jesus,' he moaned. Eric hadn't drunk from him in a while, but he had certainly done it several times sine Sam had started taking demon blood. They hadn't discussed its effects on Eric, but Sam couldn't deny the vampire anything.

Eric pulled away abruptly and held up his wrist to Sam's face. With his eyes locked on Sam's he deliberately used his sharp nails to pierce his skin. Sam felt hot all over, and he didn't hesitate to attach his mouth to the wound.

He didn't see Eric's smug smile.

XXX

Bobby's house lay quiet. The only sound was the endless turning of pages all through the day, and into the night.

There weren't enough books in the world to find what they needed, and there wasn't time to read them all anyway. Dean was reading on autopilot by now, if that was possible. He would occasionally get his phone out and stare at the display, willing Sam to get a clue and call him.

'You gonna call him?' Bobby grumbled from behind his overflowing desk when Dean had done this about a hundred times. The young man glanced up and put the phone away, a little guiltily. He went back to his book, but then he heard Bobby sigh and the sound of a big tome closing. When he glanced up Bobby had leaned back in his chair with a look of defeat, giving a "let's be realistic" raise of his eyebrows.

'Don't say it, Bobby,' he dismissed the old hunter, focusing on the Latin in front of him, but the words were blurring and he wasn't the best at Latin, he knew. He could pick out the words he needed, but he was barely seeing straight in the dim light.

'Even if we find Lilith, and Sam and Eric, how the hell we're gonna stop a thousand year old vampire turned demon, and Sam hopped up on demon blood?' He made a gesture of impatience and frustration. 'I mean, do we even know what Sam can do when he's been drinking? I assume it's a bit more than having visions if he's gonna use them to gank Lilith?'

'I don't think I want to know,' Dean grumbled. He let his eyes wander over to the window and the dark night beyond. There was a dark hole in his stomach, and he knew at any moment he would collapse in on himself. Such thoughts were melodramatic and pointless, however, so he cleared his throat and refocused.

'Cas will find her,' he said, 'and we'll figure out the rest. Sam'll listen.' The last was said more to himself than to Bobby.

'Do you remember what Sam told us about the detoxing?' Bobby asked pointedly.

'Of course I remember,' Dean snapped, getting up abruptly and stalking towards the kitchen, only to turn and start pacing instead. 'He said he hallucinated for days. What's that got to do with anything?'

'The point is we don't know what he's like when he's on the stuff,' Bobby explained calmly. 'He could be violent, or completely in Eric- the demon's- power.' Dean sighed and rubbed at his face, coming to a stop in front of the window.

The flutter of wings made Dean spin around. Cas looked just about as tired as Dean felt.

'You've found him?' Dean asked, unable to keep the hope from his voice.

'No,' Cas replied, 'but I think I've found out where Lilith is going to be.'

'Where?'

'Understand, Dean, if we do this, we will become the enemies of heaven.' Cas' eyes were deadly serious, and Dean shot an uneasy glance at Bobby.

'I'm not a big fan of your brothers, Cas, so I couldn't really care less.' Dean gave a half-shrug. Cas nodded knowingly. He looked a little lost.

'I do not want Sam to kill Lilith,' he admitted.

'I'm glad we're on the same side. Now, where's the demon bitch hiding out?'

'I only know where she plans for Sam to kill her.'

'Care to get to the bottom line, Cas?' The angel informed them of the location, at a nunnery no less.

'A week from now,' Cas told them.

'Okay, we'll be there to stop it.'

'We will try,' Cas agreed, and disappeared. Dean and Bobby looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. A week was a long time to wait for a battle to begin. A whole week for Sam to drink himself full of demon blood a hundred times over.

They put themselves in gear and started taking account of their ammo and supplies.

XXX

They had stopped at a small town because Eric was sure a middle-ranking demon was hiding out there. Not one in Lilith's employ, but strong enough for Sam to practice on.

They cornered the bastard in the house of the demon's meat-suit. Sam didn't register the nice decor they quickly demolished in the fight. The annoying thing about his situation was that he couldn't just start using his powers; he needed to get a hold on the demon so he could drink his fill. Eric's blood wasn't enough to sustain him. This demon was strong enough to last him a while, though he'd have to drink again before he went after Lilith.

The demon got in a sudden punch, sending Sam backwards, tumbling over the couch. He hit a cabinet filled with nice glassware, a vase falling and hitting his head. He looked up just as the demon took hold of the end of the couch and flipped it to the side. He, a big lug of a man, smirked as his eyes went black.

Sam held up his hand and the demon stopped abruptly, getting that constipated look on his face they always got as he tried to keep his demon soul in.

Eric came up behind, grabbing the demon's arms and holding him tight.

'Drink,' the vampire ordered. Sam scrambled to his feet, letting the demon go. It trashed in Eric's arms. Sam approached, a small smirk on his lips.

'You'll never get her,' the demon growled, 'you're stupid to even try.' Sam ignored him and took out a small pocket knife. The blood started flowing, a beautiful sight. The demon tried to open its mouth to escape, but Eric pressed his hand over the mouth as Sam gulped down the power. It tasted almost sweet to him these days.

When he felt his stomach filling, he pulled back and held his hand to the demon's chest. Eric let go of its mouth and the black smoke flowed easily, so quickly it felt better than ever before. Sam felt elated, like a weight had been taken off him. He really was ready.

When the black smoke was destroyed, Eric dropped the meat-suit thoughtlessly, smiling a proud smile at Sam, who returned it gratefully. A horrible gurgling sound interrupted them. Sam looked down; the man was alive.

'He- he-' the man tried to speak, gasping, but blood was coming out of his mouth as well. Sam's cut had been deeper than necessary. The hunter dropped to his knees, slipping a hand under the man's head.

'It's okay,' he whispered, his elation from earlier gone in a flash. The man's eyes were filled with fear. He reached up and gripped Sam's jacket. Sam pressed his other hand to the wound. 'Keep still, we'll get you help.'

Sam jumped as Eric suddenly stabbed the man violently in the stomach. The man gave a wordless cry, and then died. Sam watched as the life drained from the man. When it was gone, the hunter got to his feet unsteadily. Eric was wiping the knife clean in a meticulous way, eyes cold and professional. Sam felt like he was having trouble breathing. Eric caught a look of him and put the knife away, giving the hunter a condescending stare.

'He was dead, Sam.'

'No, he wasn't,' Sam heard himself say. He felt like he was watching the scene from the bottom of a deep hole.

'He was as good as, I just put him out of his misery. The demons ride them too hard, they always do.'

'No, not this one,' Sam shook his head, staring down at the dead man. 'I killed him, when I fed on him.' He put a hand to his mouth, certain he was going to throw up any second.

'Sam, come on,' Eric said, his voice sounding strange in Sam's ears. 'Be realistic. You can't save everybody.'

'I could have saved him,' Sam whispered. 'That was why I started using my powers in the first place, to save the vessels, to get the demon out without harming them.' Eric sighed and came round the dead body, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder.

'You should be proud,' he told the hunter. 'You just killed a powerful middle-ranking demon. You haven't done that in ages.' He leaned in to whisper seductively in Sam's ear, not noticing how Sam had gone stiff as a statue. 'Remember the last time you got a big baddie like this? We went back to the motel and had sex for two days straights. What do you say? Wanna celebrate?'

Sam swallowed several times, slowly turning his head towards the vampire. He gazed into the smirking face for a second before kissing him hard. Eric kissed back, gripping Sam's head and angling it the way he wanted. Sam pulled back abruptly.

'You know I love you, right?'

Eric smiled tightly. 'Of course.'

'I mean it,' Sam insisted. 'You've done so much for me. I love you. I. Love. You,' he enunciated very clearly. Eric stepped back, turning away. 'What's wrong?' Sam asked, voice full of concern.

'I'm thirsty,' Eric said. 'I think I'm going to find some True Blood. Why don't you head down to the diner you ate at last night? I'll meet you there once I'm feeling better.'

Eric didn't look back as he exited the house. Sam stood for a long moment, a dead man at his feet, the living room destroyed around him. Eventually, he left and drove down to the diner. Once inside, he noticed a pay phone in the hallway leading to the bathroom in the back. His feet seemed to carry him there of their own free will. He didn't know why he didn't just pull out his own phone, but there was something comforting about feeling the old shape of a phone against his ear as he pushed in some change and pressed the old sticky buttons.

He studied people's scratchings on the walls. Someone had written "Call me – guy you met at the bar last night," and their number.

Finally, he heard his brother's voice.

XXX

Dean's phone rang as he was packing away the books they wouldn't be needing on a high shelf. He pushed the last book in as he fished out his phone from his pocket. The caller ID was unknown.

'Hello?' He heard some odd heavy breathing and was about to tell the jerk he'd gotten the wrong number, when Sam's voice came across the line, small and afraid.

'Dean.' The older brother immediately sat down in the chair by the desk, all focus on Sam's voice.

'Sam?' He tried to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest. 'Listen to me, Sammy. Don't think about anything else right now, okay? Just tell me where you are, right now.' He silently prayed for Sam to listen to him. There was a long pause, as if Sam was looking around to find out where he was.

'I'm in Milford, Iowa,' he confessed, giving the exact address of the diner he was in. Dean wrote it down quick.

'Okay, Sammy,' Dean continued, speaking slowly. 'I want you to get in whatever car you have, or steal the first one you can find, and drive towards Bobby's. I'm gonna get in my car right this second and drive towards you. We'll meet halfway. Do you understand?'

'Dean- I... I think-'

'Sam, please,' Dean begged. 'Eric is not who you think he is.' He knew it was a big risk to say it, but he had to take it. The line was silent for a long time, and Dean had almost given up hope. Then he heard Sam, but he wasn't talking to him.

'I was trying to call Dean,' Sam was saying. 'I miss him... but he's not picking up-' The line went dead and Dean pushed against the desk so hard most of the books on it wobbled off.

'Fuck!' He didn't wait for Bobby to come back from town. He just got in the Impala and drove. He knew his chances of finding Sam were slim, but he didn't have anything else he should be doing.

He just hoped Sam had believed him, or was at least entertaining the possibility.

XXX

'And what would you have done if he had picked up?' Sam shrugged, leaning against the wall.

'Say goodbye, I guess, just in case we get our asses handed to us by Lilith.' Eric reached out and cupped the side of Sam's face, smiling indulgently.

'Don't worry, you're strong enough.' Sam smiled, nodding and then stealing a quick kiss from the vampire.

'Let's go celebrate,' he said, smiling.

'Aren't you hungry?' Eric asked.

'Yeah, for you,' Sam grinned, pulling at the black t-shirt Eric always wore. 'What was our record? Two days, right? Let's see if we can't beat that. I wanna fuck a year's worth before I have to gank the bitch.' The vampire returned the grin and they retired to their motel room.


	14. Chapter 14

A few hours later, in a motel-room smelling of sex...

After their second round, Eric had gone to get Sam a coke from the vending machine while the hunter lay in bed in only his boxers. He didn't look like he had just had great sex, though.

He knew all he had to do was push the issue, but a part of him didn't want to, for fear that he was right. If he was right, however, then pushing was exactly what he had to do.

Sam watched carefully when the vampire returned. Eric wore only a pair of tight jeans, the bad lighting in the crap motel room making him look more pasty than ethereal. He came over with a smile, placing the coke can on the nightstand. Sam smiled tightly in gratitude.

'What are you thinking about?' Eric asked, tilting his head curiously. Sam glanced at him.

'Nothing special.'

'You look like someone killed you puppy,' Eric remarked, going round to his side of the bed and slumping down on it. 'You know we still have time for a little more celebration...' Eric hinted. 'Lilith won't be in position until Friday. We don't need to leave here before tomorrow morning.'

'And how is it you know this again?'

'I have my ways.'

Sam's teeth ground together, but then he closed his eyes for a brief moment before turning towards Eric with a smile. He leaned down and kissed the vampire softly.

'I'm glad you're here,' he whispered.

'So am I,' Eric replied between kisses.

'I love you,' Sam murmured. 'Do you love me?'

'Of-' There was a flash of pain across Eric's face.

'Eric, I love you,' Sam repeated more insistently. 'I need your help.'

'What are you talking about?' Eric asked, tensing. Sam rolled on top of him completely, taking hold of the vampire's wrists and placing them on either side of Eric's head, their faces nose-to-nose.

'I need you, Eric,' he whispered. He kissed him hard, but not harshly. 'Eric.' He allowed the vampire to roll them over, even though the jeans weren't very comfortable against Sam's boxers. They kissed and touched. Sam continued to whisper Eric's name over and over. 'Eric, Eric, Eric...'

Suddenly, the vampire went stiff in his arms, his face buried in Sam's neck, probably seconds away from biting.

'Will you just shut up,' he growled. He was about to say something else when his whole body twitched violently. Sam held him tight, but had to let go when Eric pushed himself up abruptly, hands on either side of Sam's head. His eyes were intense and looked blood-shot, as if he had been awake for days.

'Sam-' he gasped. He squeezed his eyes shut, arms shaking. When he opened them they were black.

Sam reacting instinctively getting his knees up and pushing the demon with all his strength. Caught unawares, it flew backwards off the bed and hit the floor. Before it had time to get up, Sam sat up in bed with his hand raised.

The demon coughed at Sam's initial push of power, but it was strong. Sam grit his teeth as he focused.

'Don't be stupid, Sam,' it hissed. 'You need me, you know you do.'

'Let him go,' Sam growled.

'We're fused together,' the demon said, 'if you kill me, you'll kill him.'

'I don't believe you!'

'He's a vampire, his soul is mine!'

'If you get out of him right now I won't kill you,' Sam bargained, then added low: 'Ruby.' The black eyes flashed again.

'What gave me away?' Ruby asked, smiling and showing off Eric's canines.

'You mentioned the last time we had celebrated,' Sam said, 'that was before Eric exorcised you.'

'Ah,' Ruby nodded, 'a small slip of the tongue, but you have to admit, I had you going.' Sam grimaced at the truth of the statement. Ruby took the opportunity to rise to her feet. Sam held up his hand in warning. 'Come on, Sam,' Ruby insisted, 'you need me to kill Lilith.'

'No,' Sam shook his head, 'I'm strong enough on my own.' Ruby laughed, but stopped abruptly at the look in Sam's eyes. Just as she made to lunge at him, he redoubled his efforts. Finally, Ruby began coughing up black smoke.

It was hard; Sam was getting a massive headache very quickly. Slowly, Ruby sank to Eric's knees, hands desperately pushing in the black smoke like someone swallowing their own vomit. Sam's nose was bleeding, but he hardly noticed.

'You need me!' Ruby gasped.

'No!' Sam yelled.

XXX

A few moments earlier, a day's ride out from Bobby's, Dean was racing down the highway in the Impala, praying harder than he ever had.

'Come on Cas, I've finally found him!' he growled, gripping the wheel so tight he was getting blisters on his hands. He had been praying steadily all day. He didn't just pray to Cas, though. He prayed to God that Sam would keep the demon in the same town long enough for him to get there. He had already looked the town up and found the cheapest motel. If only Cas could pop in so they could zap straight to Sam-

'I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner.' The angelic voice triggered an immediate reaction: Dean stomped on the breaks hard enough that Castiel actually hit his head on the dash. The angel didn't seem to mind that much, though. He merely gave Dean a concerned expression. Dean guided the Impala as far off the road as the terrain allowed before turning to the angel.

'I found Sam, you need to zap me there right now.'

'All right,' Cas replied immediately and Dean released a breath. A part of him had been scared Cas wouldn't be able to do it. The angel was more than capable once Dean gave him the address.

Once outside the cheap motel it was only a matter of taking in the layout of the place and finding which room Sam was likely to take. It was a one-story structure in the same of an L, with only a couple of cars parked outside, one by the reception and one at the end.

Dean knew it would be the last one on the block, with the beat-up old Cadillac outside.

He jogged towards the room, not even caring if Cas followed or disappeared. When he reached the last door he hesitated for a second. He had no idea what they would be doing in there-

'No!' Sam's yell spurred him into action and he just kicked the damn door open without a second thought.

The scene he was met with wasn't one he could have predicted.

Sam was on the bed, nearly naked, nose bleeding and hand outstretched towards Eric, who was spewing demon smoke all over the floor around him.

'You're-... not... strong... eno-' the demon tried to speak, but Sam gave a painful cry and the demon gave up its last essence. The smoke seemed to simmer around the vampire before burning away, leaving no trance of it.

Eric wobbled on his knees a bit, and then fell to the side with a dull thud.

Sam pulled himself off the bed and onto the floor, taking Eric's head and placing it in his lap.

'Eric? Eric! Please, please, no,' he whispered, sounding absolutely broken. Dean was so stunned by what he had just witnessed he barely registered when Sam looked up at him.

'Dean?' Sam asked, as if he wasn't sure Dean was real. The elder hunter shook himself and came forwards, dropping down to his knees by Eric's side. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, forcing Sam to look him in the eye.

Dean had another shock when he realized Sam had the same look he had worn on the day Jess had burned. That same hopeless, guilt-ridden look of grief.

'I'm here,' was all Dean could think of to say. Sam nodded tightly and looked down at Eric.

'I don't know if he- if he survived,' Sam whispered. Dean glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if the angel had followed. Sure enough, Cas stood in the doorway, a look of uncertainty on his face. Dean hesitated to ask if an angel could heal a vampire.

Then Eric opened his eyes. He didn't gasp for breath, which unnerved Dean more than he cared to admit.

'Eric,' Sam did gasp, tilting the vampire's face up so they could look directly at each other. Eric reached up and touched Sam's face.

'Forgive me,' Eric whispered. Sam shook his head several times.

'No, it was me. I-'

'Sam, look at me,' Eric instructed as he sat up, taking Sam by the shoulders. Sam frowned, continuing to stare at the vampire. There was a pause before Sam stiffened. 'Let it happen. Your strength prevents me from forcing you, but you need to let me in,' Eric told him. 'I'm going to put you to sleep. You'll wake up somewhere safe.'

Sam took a deep breath and allowed Eric to glamor him. Dean watched, feeling unsure about a lot of things, but considering what he had just witnessed, he thought perhaps Sam taking a nap would be for the best. As Sam slumped, Eric moved quicker than a human could and placed him in bed. Afterward, he found his t-shirt and put it on.

'I'm going to dress him, and then we need to get him to Bobby's,' he said quietly, eyes on Sam. Dean watched the vampire, for what he wasn't sure. He felt like he should be having a massive reaction to all this, but he was numb instead.

'What happened?' he heard himself ask.

'A lot,' Eric sighed, 'I'll tell you everything once we have him in a safe location.'

'The demon's dead, right?' Dean asked just to be sure.

'Yes, Sam's powers destroy the demons completely. I meant a safe location for him to detox in.' Dean swallowed at the thought. 'I think Bobby's panic room would be ideal.'

Dean nodded and decided to let Eric dress Sam on his own. He waited outside with Cas, who like him was silent. There was a strange feeling of relief and dread in the air.

Once Sam was decent, and Cas had zapped them all back to Bobby's (getting the car as well), Eric placed Sam on the couch temporarily. Bobby didn't ask, but showed them the panic room.

Eric stopped at the entrance, almost like a demon would when encountering a trap. Dean, who had entered first, turned and tensed with suspicion.

'What's wrong?' Bobby asked from behind.

'It would appear I need a separate invitation for this room. It is a house onto itself, self-sufficient.' Both hunters still watched with suspicion after Bobby had given the invitation, but Eric appeared to have no problem in the iron cage. He looked around, taking in the books and interesting posters.

'Everything must be removed,' he declared after a moment. 'Nothing but a bed in the center, with restraints.'

'Restraints?' Dean asked. Eric looked at him.

'For his own safety,' he murmured. Neither hunters nor vampire spoke another word as they made the room ready.

Dean stayed out of the way as Eric carried Sam downstairs. It was disconcerting to see the tall vampire sling the Sasquatch over his shoulder as if it was nothing. He watched as Eric strapped Sam onto the bed, softly pushing some hair out of the sleeping face before exiting the room. He didn't close the door, looking at Dean in a silent question.

'How bad is it gonna be?' Dean asked instead of going in. Sam looked almost peaceful, probably a result of the glamour.

'Bad,' Eric replied. 'Last time I offered to ease his pain with some of my blood, but he made me promise not to give it to him.' Dean glanced at him sharply.

'Vampire blood would help?'

'They have a canceling effect,' Eric explained. 'A mild one, but still there. Sam could not gain much power from Ruby's blood while she was in me.'

'So it was Ruby? Bitch,' Dean muttered grumpily. He sighed a moment later. 'Could you tell me the whole story?'

'Of course.' Before they could turn and go upstairs, however, Sam made a noise within the chamber. Eric was by his side in literally the blink of an eye. Dean hurried to the entrance, but kept out of sight as Eric knelt by the bed.

Sam blinked his eyes open slowly, his eyes going from calm to anguished in increments as he remembered what had happened. He looked around, ending his inspection with a guilty look at Eric.

'You're in Bobby's panic room,' Eric told him unnecessarily. Sam nodded, pulling at the restraints to check on them. 'I thought it best to be prepared.'

'Yeah,' Sam whispered. 'Good thinking.'

'Do not blame yourself Sam. If anyone is to blame-'

'I drank the stuff, it was my choice,' Sam cut in, turning his head away to stare at the wall to the left.

'Only because I told you to.'

'I should have known it wasn't you.'

'I should have been able to take control.'

'Just...' Sam squeezed his eyes shut. 'Don't give me anything.' Eric hesitated. 'Promise me, like before.'

'You've drunk so much, a little of my blood could help-'

'I don't want it.'

'If this is some method of punishing yourself-'

'Just don't put anymore blood in me!' Sam bit his lip after his outburst. Eric nodded, leaned down and pressed a kiss to Sam's furrowed brow, and left. Dean waited outside, out of sight, and closed the door before Sam saw him.

He had to wait until he heard the whole story.

XXX

An unusual scene could be observed in Bobby's living room. Two hunters sitting across from a vampire, all three of them looking a little stretched. Eric was sitting on the edge of his chair, elbows on his knees, head down. Dean and Bobby kept exchanging glances, wondering if they should say something or let the vampire take his time.

Eric had explained about his capture: he had been taken and tortured to the point where Ruby managed to possess him. He had periodically tried to break through, especially when Sam had found him, but he had not been able to until Sam started reaching out to him.

Part of Dean wanted to blame Eric, but he knew he couldn't. Even if Sam had thought Eric had been the one who wanted him to drink, it had still been his choice.

'At first, Sam thought Ruby was offering him vampire blood,' Eric spoke slowly, each word dragged out kicking and screaming. 'He believed it would make him strong without becoming a slave to demons. Then, when Ruby realised my vampire blood was diluting her powers, she convinced him it had to be demon blood.'

'So, the vampire/demon combo did nothing to him?' Dean asked.

'It did something,' Eric admitted, 'I am not sure exactly how it effected him, but I do know one thing: it reawakened his thirst.' Dean shifted uncomfortably at the word. His mind kept conjuring up pictures of Sam's face covered in blood, or worse, with fangs like a vampire or black eyes like a demon.

'He still started the whole thing by drinking your blood, believing it was V,' Dean muttered.

'He trusted me completely,' Eric said curtly. 'Ruby told him he had to drink so he could kill Lilith.'

'You know we can't kill her, right?' Dean asked, just to make sure they were on the same page. Eric nodded.

'I had a unique insight into her mind while she was… inside me. Her true objective is known only to her and Lilith. Even other demons believe she is a traitor.'

The three fell silent. Eventually Bobby got up to get the humans a drink, and Eric said he had to go out before the sun came up.

'You're welcome to stay in the basement,' Bobby said, thought the tone of his voice wasn't enthusiastic.

'I must sleep in the ground, and then drink the moment I rise.' He noticed the look on Dean's face, and added, 'True Blood, that is.' Dean shrugged one shoulder, like it wasn't his business.

'And if Sam asks for you?' Bobby asked. Eric rose and went to the window, looking at the lightening sky.

'Tell him I will return when I can.'

He disappeared so fast Dean only felt the swoosh of air as the vampire moved past him out the door. Bobby made a grunting noise and filled his glass to the top, getting Dean a double as well. After Dean had downed the drink, needing the courage from the burn, he sat the glass down on the table forcefully and went to the kitchen. He got a glass of water and descended to the basement.

Sam's eyes were wide and hopeful when Dean pulled the door open, but when the "captive" realised who it was his face fell with guilt and he looked away. He looked so thin on the bed. Due to the fact that it dipped so much Sam's body looked like it was collapsing in on itself.

'I… I brought you some water,' Dean said, coming over to the bed. Sam's face was pinched tight.

'Thanks, I'm not thirsty,' he said. Dean nodded, more to himself than Sam, and decided to set the glass down on the floor by the bed for the moment. He went outside and got one of the chairs they had removed from the room when "remodeling" it for Sam, and placed it by the bed. He sat down heavily, waiting for Sam to turn his head, but his brother didn't. That was fine, Dean thought, for he wasn't sure he could say anything with those puppy eyes staring at him.

'Eric told me the whole story,' he said. He waited a beat to see if Sam would react. Nothing. 'If you want me to say it wasn't your fault, I could, but I don't think either of us want to hear it.'

'It's my fault,' Sam said. Dean could tell immediately from his brother's voice that he was holding in a flood of emotions, and the dam was going to break any minute.

'Sam,' Dean sighed. 'I'm not gonna lie. I want to cut that vamps head off so much I-' He got up to pace, feeling on edge. 'But if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't even be here, so I guess we're stuck with him.' He stopped when he had come round to the other side. Sam's eyes were closed, squeezed shut in pain.

'You don't understand,' Sam gasped. 'I wanted to drink. When Eric- Ruby told me to, I was relieved, overjoyed even, like he'd given me permission.' Dean wasn't sure if that was the truth coming out of Sam's mouth, or more guilt.

'Just… just detox, all right? You get through this and we'll help you keep clean. Eric will start wearing a anti-possession charm and it'll be okay.' Now who was talking out of guilt?

'Just go, please,' Sam whispered, pulling weakly at the restrains, tears running over his nose and down his right cheek. Dean almost turned to go, but a thought occurred to him: He had allowed them to split up before, and look where it got them. He had turned away from Sam due to his own misplaced righteousness, even though he had known deep down it was a mistake to split up.

Sam had a problem, sure, but he was still Sam. Looking at his little brother, tied to the bed and shaking with guilt in an attempt to keep the sobs in that would come the second he was alone, Dean knew it was all bullshit.

The demon blood wasn't a part of Sam. It was in him, but it wasn't _him_. It wasn't like he was genetically disposed to be an alcoholic even, he had been given the blood as a baby. It was like being possessed. Sam couldn't control himself all the time. He had slipped up, lost control for a second due to an incredible temptation, and a fucking convincing enabler. In a way, there wasn't anyone to blame but that Yellow Eyed demonic bastard.

Dean fell to his knees by the head of the bed, reaching out to push Sam's hair out of his eyes. Sam tried turning his head even further to the left, straining his neck to push his eyes into the pillow, but it was impossible.

'I'm here, Sammy,' Dean whispered, feeling utterly helpless and yet more determined to help than he had in a long time. He felt the power of just being there, of not turning away. 'It's gonna be okay, we're getting through this together and then you'll be okay. I'm not gonna let go this time, Sammy, I swear.' Before he could change his mind, he leaned down quick and pressed a kiss to Sam's forehead. He hadn't done that since they were kids. 'I'll let you get some sleep. Call if you need anything.' Getting up quickly, he left the room, closing the heavy door behind him. After it was closed, he could hear Sam finally release his sobs.


	15. Chapter 15

The screaming didn't start until the next night. 

Bobby brought him water and talked to him, until he became incoherent.

Dean couldn't bring himself to go downstairs for a long time.

At first the screams were angry. 'Let me out! This isn't fucking funny, Dean!' Then they were pleading. 'I'm okay now! Let me out, I feel fine! Please!' Then they changed, and slowly Dean realized Sam wasn't even aware of who or what he was screaming at.

Sometimes it was Eric, other times he called for help from anyone who would listen.

By midnight the screams were just painful wails and desperate 'no's that seemed to rattle the walls of the decaying house. The two hunters had long since started drinking. They made each other go down to check every once in a while; just taking quick peaks through the window in case Sam managed to twist out of the restraints and do something stupid.

It was Dean's second turn at around two o'clock. Even though the sunlight never came down to the basement, it still felt darker at night. The only light was the light-bulb hanging high on the ceiling above Sammy's head. 

Sam had been quiet for a while by the time Dean headed down. He lay whimpering, eyes squeezed shut and arms straining against the bounds so hard Dean wasn't sure they would hold through the whole ordeal. He decided to open the door and have a closer look.

'Sam?' he asked cautiously as he pushed his way inside. Sam let out a painful sound. Dean was at a loss of what to do.

Suddenly, Sam lurched to the side and threw up his last meal, managing to cover a wide area to the side of the bed. He coughed and made horrible gurgling sounds. Fearing he was going to choke, Dean ignored the sick and went to his brother's side. He ripped off the shirt he was wearing over his t-shirt and wiped at Sam's face.

Sam was pale, sweating profusely, but he was ice-cold to the touch. That more than anything scared the hell out of Dean.

'Please,' Sam gasped. 'No more.'

'It's me, Sammy,' Dean said, laying Sam's head gently into a more comfortable position. 'It's Dean.'

'No more, please,' Sam repeated tonelessly. His eyes slid closed and he drifted off into some sort of sleep. The smell hit Dean, and he knew he'd have to clean up. He thought about Eric doing the same, and couldn't quite picture it.

XXX

'What happened?' Bobby asked when Dean came up. He didn't answer, going straight for the kitchen to dispose of the soiled shirt and other rags he'd used to clean up the room. 'He get sick?' he heard Bobby ask.

'Yeah,' he called out, making sure the stench was sealed away in a garbage bag before taking it outside. The night was overclouded and dark. He stuffed the bag in the trash and stood for a moment.

Closing his eyes, breathing in the fresh air, trying to clear his head.

A muffled scream ruined the moment.

'Damn it, Sammy,' he whispered.

'It's progressing fast.'

Dean spun around even though he knew immediately who it was. He just didn't like being sneaked up on. He glared at the pale vampire, noting Sam was nearing that color if things progressed any further.

'What do you want?' Dean wasn't in the mood for chatting with vampires. He stalked back towards the porch.

'I came to see him of course, with your permission.' Dean stopped short, closing his eyes and willing himself to be patient. Eric was probably just saying that to manipulate him. Another scream reached them from the basement, through a thick wall of iron, the floor and the walls of the house. Dean turned to Eric, eyes hard.

'You can see him, if you help him.' Eric seemed to pause like he needed to decipher Dean's meaning.

'Dean-'

'It's not up for discussion.' 

Eric sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward as if a vampire would be the praying type. Dean waited. He felt both incredibly patient and ready to snap at any moment. It all depended on what the vampire answered.

'I gave Sam my word,' Eric said, almost apologetically. He sounded old. Dean could still hear the hesitation, however. He wasn't even consciously aware of having made the decision, but he knew he had to make Eric do what needed to be done. If a little more blood could make the situation more bearable, then so be it. Dean didn't ask himself who actually benefited from it.

'He's coming apart,' Dean pressed. 'Just give him something to take the edge off.'

'I gave my-'

'You're a vampire, your word means nothing to me,' Dean growled. 'Now, are you gonna help him, or am I gonna have to get Bobby to rescind your invitation?'

There was a momentary standoff as the two stared at each other.

'Fine,' Eric sighed. 'I will do it, but for him, not for you.'

'That's the deal,' Dean grumbled and went inside. He didn't bother telling Bobby what was up, and went down to the basement, Eric following dutifully. Sam was twitching, but thankfully silent except for the occasional whimper. Eric went to his side and knelt, turning Sam's twitching head towards him gently.

'Sam,' Eric whispered. Dean felt uncomfortable watching the clear display of affection and grief, but he made himself keep watching.

'Do it,' he said. Eric glanced at him briefly in irritation.

'Sam, listen to me, I'm going to give you a little of my blood to help you.'

Sam twitched and tried to turn his head away. 'No more, no more,' he mumbled.

'Sam, I need you to understand,' Eric said carefully. 'I'm doing this to help you.'

'No more blood, no more.'

Eric brought his left wrist to his mouth and bit down. He held it out over Sam's mouth. The blood dripped down, hitting Sam right on the mouth. The reaction was immediate. Sam gasped and strained upwards towards the source of the blood. Dean grimaced, but kept watching. A few drops fell into Sam's mouth, but just as suddenly as Sam had reached towards the source, he twisted away.

'NO!' he screamed. Eric grabbed his chin, holding the head in position easily with his strength.

'Just a few drops more,' he said, pressing his wrist to Sam's mouth. Sam seemed to give in and suck for a few seconds, then Eric pulled his wrist away.

Sam's eyes rolled back into his head, and then he went limp, his breathing evening out as if he had simply fallen asleep. The only thing that ruined that thought was the smear of blood across his mouth. Dean would never get that picture out of his head.

Eric rose slowly.

'I don't know how long or how well it will effect him,' he said. He sounded defeated.

'He's asleep, that's something,' Dean pointed out. He left the room.

Upstairs Bobby was waiting for him, but one look from Dean told him more than he needed to know.

'You did something stupid, didn't ya?' he shook his head.

'I did what I had to do,' Dean told him, and himself. He went and poured himself a drink.

XXX

Bobby and Dean didn't move or speak until Eric came upstairs. They watched as the vampire paced back and forth a few times.

'Well?' Dean prompted. 'How's he doing?'

'Better, I think,' Eric murmured. Dean tried not to snap back. He was too tired to fight with the jerk anyway. 'I have to go.'

'Where?' Dean's anger came back with a rush, energizing him. He stood up and Eric turned to face him. 'Where the hell do you have to be?'

'Lilith expects me,' Eric replied. 'Or rather, Ruby in my form. I don't intend to disappoint her.'

'You think you can defeat Lilith?'

'She will be vulnerable,' Eric explained, his eyes alight with anticipation. Dean found it disturbing. 'She will send all her minions away because they don't know the true nature of her game. She'll want Sam to have a clear path to her. I will go to her and tell her Sam is on his way, then, when she is least expecting it, kill her.'

'Didn't you get the memo?' Bobby asked surly. 'Killing Lilith is what starts the apocalypse.'

'Sam killing Lilith starts the apocalypse,' Eric corrected. 'Not some random vampire. It's the only way to ensure the apocalypse does not happen.' Dean exchanged a glance with Bobby, who shrugged in that way of his that said "it might just be crazy enough to work."

'It's a stupid plan,' Dean told Eric.

'I'll need the knife.'

'You're insane,' Dean pointed out. 'I'm not letting you walk out of here with our best weapon.'

'You can't come with me. If your presence is known, the whole plan is ruined.'

'No.'

'If I kill her, Sam is free of his destiny,' Eric insisted.

'Sam needs you alive,' Dean snapped. He swallowed at the admission. 'Or, undead, or whatever.'

'This is our best chance. I am going, with or without your knife, though I admit my chances without it are slim.' Eric started for the door, and Dean cursed the idiot vampire aloud, rather colorfully.

'Wait...' 

Eric stopped. Dean had a feeling he was going to regret this decision.

It took a bit of searching to get the knife. None of them could remember who took care of it during Sam's transportation. They found it at the bottom of the Impala's trunk. Somehow, the three of them ended up outside, standing around saying goodbye as if they were really sad to see the vamp go. Dean tried not to let guilt creep into him. So what if the vamp wanted to go out and die with a stupid plan?

Thankfully, there were no sounds from the basement. Eric looked cold in just a t-shirt and jeans in the night, but that was nothing new.

Once the knife was in Eric's hand, Dean gave him one last warning.

'If you don't bring this back, I'm gonna be really mad.' Eric nodded, a smile tugging at his lips at the empty threat. He dug into his pocket, bringing out a vile filled with blood.

'Here, take it. Give him a few drops if he deteriorates.' Dean took it, trying not to grimace at the thought of feeding Sam. He nodded to Eric, his only attempt at saying "good luck." Eric turned to Bobby, holding out his hand.

'Thank you for your invitation.' Dean didn't know if that was a vampire thing to say, but Bobby nodded and took the hand.

'Give her hell,' the old hunter said. Eric didn't drag out the goodbye. He was gone in the blink of an eye. Dean glanced sideways at Bobby.

'How stupid do you think this decision was?' he asked.

'If a vamp wants to try and save the world, who are we to tell him no? Besides, if he can't kill her with all his strength and speed, you ain't gonna get no closer with that knife.' With that Bobby went inside, leaving Dean to stare out into the darkness, wondering if he would feel more annoyed if Eric died or succeeded.

XXX

Eric was walking down a long hallway, his shoulders hunched and eyes alert. He kept scanning behind him, but the hallway stretched out in both directions, dark and beckoning.

A whispered voice reached his ears. He spun around, but no one was there.

The light was blurry, almost as if there was a mist indoors.

A door led to a large room. Sam was there, right there, lying on a bed, seemingly sleeping.

Eric was above him, reaching out.

'Sam,' he whispered reverently. Just as he touched Sam's cheek, the hunter burst off the bed, fangs going straight for Eric's jugular. The blood poured, and poured, and poured, more going down Sam's shirt than into his mouth, but that didn't matter.

His eyes went black.

'NO!'

'Easy, Sammy, I got you, just let me-'

'No more! No more blood, please, no more.'

'I know you don't want it, Sammy, but it's helping you, I promise.'

Then there was warmth on his tongue, and peace. Beautiful, silent, peace.

XXX

Eric had fought many battles. Most of them he had known he would win, but far from all. Contrary perhaps to popular belief, vampires did indeed have a fight or flight instinct.

Eric only entered a fight he didn't know he could win if it was worth dying for.

When Ruby had been in control, he had been in a dream state most of the time. He knew it was impossible, silly even, but he was certain he dreamt the following events.

The stone corridor lead to a room with an altar. There was a cold wind that didn't really effect him, but gave a strange sense of comfort, and loneliness.

Most of all, he was certain he had dreamt his death. But perhaps that was just his mind playing tricks with him. He had waited a thousand years for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. It seemed petty to care how he went out. He didn't really believe in having the last laugh, as long as he had justice for himself and those he cared for.

It didn't matter if his opponent didn't see it coming. Once, perhaps it had, but he was far too old for that now.

The doors were open. He saw Lilith standing in front of the altar, her back to him. He knew Ruby's ability to connect with other demons had been limited while inside him, due to his vampiric nature. His first hope in his plan was that it also prevented other demons from recognizing her. Even after having spent all that time riding in the backseat to a very chatty demon, he still couldn't understand the complexities of their power-levels.

Which meant he had no idea how this confrontation would even begin. He could be dead in a moment.

She appeared to be quite serene, waiting for her death. Eric felt a stab of jealousy. Though he was content to die tonight, he did not wish to fail. That would mean Sam's destiny could still be fulfilled.

She didn't turn until he was by the door, and when she did Eric was prepared for her to look into his eyes and find them wanting. She smiled in greeting, however. First test confirmed- she could not immediately tell he wasn't Ruby. He tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. Old reflexes could still pop up even in the oldest of vampires.

'Where's Sam?' she asked lightly.

'He'll be along,' Eric replied, giving her an evil smirk for added effect. He made sure to speak with the American accent Ruby had preferred. 'He thinks we're approaching from different sides, ambushing you.' Lilith smiled, delighted.

'How's the vamp treating you?' she said with a slight drawl. 'It's a bit unnerving, the way you appear.'

'He's annoying, but I am in control.'

'And he's still dampening your powers?'

'Yes, I haven't been able to subdue him.'

'You feel… cold'

'I am in control,' Eric assured her.

'Good.' She turned back to her alter, running her hands over it in a sensual manner. Eric walked forwards causally, coming to stand a few feet to her right. He gazed on her with admiration.

'Any moment now,' he said, voice filled with anticipation. She gave a sigh of pleasure.

'Yes,' she whispered, her eyes closing at the thought of her master's arrival.

Eric struck, as quickly as his vampiric speed would allow. The knife almost touched her skin before she stopped it with an iron grip on his wrist.

He looked into her eyes and saw pure rage. It did not surprise him, but it still filled him with dread.

XXX

There were no arms that held him tight this time, only worn restraints barely doing their job. Sam saw the fan above him and the sickly light, breathing in slowly and watching it come into focus.

It must have taken longer this time, he thought. There was barely a sense of time left in him at all.

He didn't know how long he lay there, feeling his body. He felt thirsty, for water, and instead of calling out he relished in the feeling for a moment. He assumed it was daytime, otherwise surely Eric would be with him. 

'Dean!' he called out, hoping his voice sounded normal enough for Dean to recognize it. He didn't call again, but waited patiently, as a normal person would. Finally, he heard quick steps on the stairs and the door creaked open.

'Sam?' Dean asked the second he popped his head in. Sam tried to smile as normally as possible.

'Hey.'

'You feeling okay today?' Dean came inside, his eyes scanning Sam like they always did when Sam was hurt or sick.

'Yeah, I think it's over. Feels like it, anyway,' Sam rolled his shoulders as much as the restraints would allow him. 'I'm a bit sore, and thirsty, and hungry,' he added as he took stock of his bodily needs. Dean snorted softly.

'Sounds good to me,' he said and undid the restraints.

'Is Eric around?' Sam was trying for unaffected, but Dean's sudden stiffness made him give that up. 'Dean? Where is he?' His brother finished undoing the binds and got up.

'Why don't I go make you some breakfast. The whole nine yards, all right? We'll talk after.' He didn't wait for a reply, and left in a hurry. Sam swallowed as he sat up, very slowly, feeling his joints creak. Dean had sounded worried. Was it just because Eric had gone missing, or something even worse?

He felt an odd crinkling in his pocket and checked it, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He was pretty sure he hadn't put it there. Dean wasn't the type to leave secret notes on his person, so Sam opened it carefully, holding his breath.

Out of all the possibilities his mind had entertained, a poem was not it. At first it didn't seem like the type of thing Eric would do, but once he thought about it, and the words on the paper spilled into his mind, he realized a thousand year old vampire would probably think a poem would be the best way to say anything even slightly emotionally taxing.

Or a sonnet, in this case. Sam was well-read, and was sure he had come across Shakespeare's sonnets before. In any case he was pretty sure he would never forget it now.

No longer mourn for me when I am dead  
Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell  
Give warning to the world that I am fled  
From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:  
Nay, if you read this, remember not  
The hand that writ it; for I love you so  
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot  
If thinking of me should bring you woe.  
O, if, I say, you look upon this verse  
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,  
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse.  
But let your love even with my life decay,  
Lest the wise world should look into your moan  
And mock you with me after I am gone.

He must have read it ten times over. The words glided easily into his mind, but he couldn't tell if there was more to the message than the words themselves. In the face of such simple, sad, old beauty, Sam's modern mind felt inadequate to the task.

He was running up the stairs and into the kitchen before his mind had even left the bed.

Dean spun around at the abrupt entry, just in time to see Sam's circulation-system tell him he'd over-estimated his recovery. He swayed precariously, his vision fogging.

Dean was right there, holding him up.

'Hey, hey, easy there big boy,' he said. 'Why'd you do that? You're like a hungry puppy, I swear.'

'Eric,' Sam gasped out as his vision returned. He grabbed hold of Dean's shoulders, the paper crumpling in his right hand. 'Where is he?' Dean's face contorted in uncomfortable grief.

'Let's talk about it later,' he shrugged out of Sam's grasp.

'No,' Sam said, holding the paper in front of Dean's face. 'Tell me now.' Dean gave him an odd look before grabbing the paper and unfolding it. His eyes scanned the words. He couldn't have gotten halfway before he rolled his eyes in frustration and sighed.

'Jesus Christ, Eric,' he muttered angrily.

'Where is he?' Sam repeated sharply.

'He went after Lilith,' Dean explained tiredly.

'What? When? How? Why?' Dean didn't meet his eyes, but looked down at the paper in his hands without really seeing it.

'He said he was going, with or without our help, so we gave him the knife, and he went.'

'You gave him the knife?' Sam asked incredulously.

'I thought I'd give him a snowball's chance, at least,' Dean explained.

'What happened?' Sam asked, unsure if he wanted to know.

'We're pretty sure Lilith is dead.'

It took a few seconds for Sam's mind to wrap itself around that. In the end, it was superfluous information.

'And Eric?'

'We don't know,' Dean admitted. 'Castiel came by the day after Eric left and told us Lilith was gone, but he couldn't find Eric.'

Sam walked over to the kitchen table and sat down heavily.

'I'm not saying this to make you feel better,' Dean began, 'but Castiel is pretty sure the Apocalypse is a no-go for the foreseeable future. Unless the devil can find a new first lieutenant and somehow get everything set up just right again, he's stuck in there for our life-times at least.'

Sam sighed deeply.

'Good,' he said. Dean slowly put the paper down in front of him on the table. Eric's handwriting looked old and crooked, almost like Shakespeare himself might have written it. Sam suddenly felt a stupid regret that he had never asked Eric what life had been like during the 16th century.

'With vilest worms to dwell,' he whispered.

'What?' Dean asked from where he was back at the stove cooking breakfast, giving Sam his semi-privacy to take it all in.

'Where do vampires go?' Sam asked, looking up, unaware of the deep sadness etched on his face.

'I don't know, Sammy,' Dean said apologetically.

Sam got up and went outside, not feeling particularly hungry. The sun shone, annoyingly. He wandered around the empty shells of former cars, feeling right at home.

'Castiel?' he asked. 'I know you're probably busy-' He stopped short when the angel appeared before him, wearing what Sam could only describe as a pitying expression.

'Sam,' he said gravely.

'Hey,' Sam replied awkwardly.

'I have been waiting for your recovery.'

'Oh...' Sam felt almost touched.

'You want to ask me about Eric,' Castiel surmised. Sam nodded, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking away a few pebbles by his feet, as if he was a child that knew he wouldn't like the next conversation.

'Did you really not find him?'

'He was not at the sight where Lilith died, that is as much as I know.' Sam tried to keep the hope from his heart.

'So he could still be alive?'

'I… I believe he is.' Sam let out a breath at Castiel's admission. He turned and paced up and down once, trying to get his mind out of the grief-filled hole he had been in.

'So… where is he?'

'Somewhere he does not want to be found,' Castiel suggested. Sam closed his eyes, the picture finally clear.

'He thinks he needs to stay away from me,' he whispered.

'Dean explained to me that the vampire felt guilty over what happened to you, and that he is staying away because he loves you.'

'Dean explained?' Sam repeated.

'Yes,' Castiel nodded. Sam let out a huff of breath, shaking his head.

'Typical,' he muttered. 'Thank you.' He turned to go.

'Sam,' Castiel stopped him. 'I'm sorry for my earlier threats on your life.'

'Uh… thanks.'

'I never thought I'd see the day when a vampire would stop Lucifer,' Castiel admitted.

'Yeah,' Sam agreed. That was pretty incredible. He nodded once to Castiel and hurried back inside. Dean was now sitting at the kitchen table, eating more than his fair share. Sam spared a thought to wonder where Bobby was, but figured it might still be early. They kept odd hours after all.

'Eric is still alive, you jerk,' Sam blurted. Dean looked up at him, sighed and put down his fork.

'Sam-'

'It's one thing not getting my hopes up, but to actually lie to me,' Sam began. Dean started speaking, their voices going louder as they argued, talking over each other.

'We thought he was dead, at first-'

'I thought you had accepted this-'

'Castiel went over the place again-'

'If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead ten times over for Christ's sake!'

'He wants to stay GONE, Sam!' Dean rose abruptly, eyes flashing in anger. Sam clenched his jaw and forced himself to keep silent. 'He left that stupid poem-'

'Sonnet,' Sam muttered.

'Because he left, for good,' Dean explained patiently. 'He wants you to have some sort of normal life.'

'Screw normal,' Sam snapped. Dean rolled his eyes.

'A normal love-life at least,' he amended.

'Neither of us are under any illusions that we'll find some nice girl to settle down with,' Sam growled. He tilted his head to the side, contemplating his brother. 'Is that why? You hate the fact that I found someone who can share this life?'

'Let's get one thing straight,' Dean said sharply, 'Eric can't share a life with you, because he's not even alive, not really. And he's made his choice. Accept it.' Dean left the table, stalking out of the kitchen. Sam followed him outside, but stopped on the top of the porch, watching as Dean headed to some car he was working on.

'Would you let them go?' Sam called, causing Dean to stop short. 'If you loved another hunter? If they left out of guilt for something that wasn't their fault?'

'It was his fault,' Dean said, not even turning around to face Sam. He appeared to be about to walk on, but then changed his mind and turned around, giving Sam a resigned look. 'I've tried to accept the fact that you love him, Sammy, and I know he saved the world, but I can't-'

He shook his head.

'I can't be sorry he's gone.' With that he walked away.

Sam watched him go.

XXX

Dean felt bad. He tried not to. He started work on the car, wondering if he should wake Bobby up so he could deal with Sam. The old hunter had taken the last watch, however, so Dean felt worse for even considering it.

He hadn't even really started working when he threw the wrench away and went back inside. Sam needed to understand. He hadn't really meant it the way it had come out.

He heard Sam's voice from the living room, but not the actual words. He approached quietly. Eavesdropping came natural to the Winchesters.

'Eric, please pick up,' Sam was whispering. Dean peaked around the corner. Sam was sitting on the couch, one hand on his forehead. His eyes were closed.

'Come on, you idiot, pick up.' He waited two more rings before he pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the display, finally flipping the thing closed. He threw it away and it hit the wall with quite a bit of force. Both hands on his face now, Sam hunched over. Dean realized he was trying not to cry.

Dean watched for a few seconds more before heading back outside. He stopped once he was out in the gravel yard, and looked up.

'Hey, Cas. You still around?'

'Yes, I have been watching.' Castiel appeared right in front of him. 'I am not a fan of the vampire either, but you both deserve peace.'

'You sound like it's all over.'

'It is… for now.'

'There are still monsters out there,' Dean pointed out. 'And Eric is one of them.'

'The whole world knows about Eric's kind,' Castiel mused. 'Some might call them monsters, but do you hunt the monsters everyone knows about?'

'That's semantics,' Dean pointed out. Castiel shrugged.

'I don't think an angel is the right person to ask for advice about vampires.' 

Dean sighed, glancing back at the house. 'Can you find him?'

'I will try, for both of you.'

'Thanks.' But when Dean glanced back, Castiel was already gone, as usual.

XXX

_Eric struck, as quickly as his vampiric speed would allow. The knife almost touched her skin before she stopped it with an iron grip on his wrist._

_He looked into her eyes and saw pure rage. It did not surprise him, but it still filled him with dread._

'You really thought you had a chance?' She hissed. Eric raised his other hand and tried to hit her across the face. She was quick and dodged.

Then the fight began.

She appeared to be playing with him, liking the physicality of it. His speed was new to her compared to the humans she so easily consumed.

'Where is Ruby?' she gasped after Eric had managed to hit her a few times.

'She's here,' Eric lied. 'Desperate to break through.'

They danced, they broke stone and wood and glass, but never bone or muscle. She could use her powers on him, but clearly chose not to, or perhaps she was saving it for something. Her speed wasn't actually that much quicker than his own, however.

She got hold of his throat and raised him up high above her head. Since he didn't have to breathe, it was merely an inconvenience.

'Ruby,' she growled.

'Yes, I'm here,' Eric gasped. For just a fraction of a second, Lilith's eyes narrowed as she tried to verify his statement. In this tiny moment of distraction, Eric kicked her in the stomach with all his force. She flew backwards, her grip slipping. Even before Eric himself had hit the ground, he had brought the knife up. To a human it would have passed before they could even see it, but to Eric it was an eternity.

He was charging her even though she had still to hit the floor. He struck just as she raised her arm to no doubt blast him away, but this time, he was quicker.

The pure shock on her face was priceless.

'No,' she gasped as he twisted the knife deep in her gut.

When the life has burned out of her, Eric felt oddly bereft, as though the fight would never be over until he met his own death. 

He thought about Sam, and the goodbye note of sorts he had left. It was best if it didn't go to waste. It was best if he disappeared.

XXX

Sam was moping. He would never admit it, but he was. Dean and Bobby had gotten sick of it, so they had both escaped into town for supplies and groceries. Dean had insisted they not start hunting until Sam was absolutely sure he was feeling a hundred percent again. He wasn't sure if he was ever going to feel a hundred percent ever again, maudlin as the thought was.

When sundown neared, Sam decided Dean and Bobby had probably hit the bars. Not that he blamed them. He made himself dinner and read some books.

He was sitting with only the table-lamp on, fairly engrossed in a book about vampires, predictably enough. Maybe it was a form of self-torture, but he wasn't really thinking in those terms.

He heard the door open and close softly, which made him immediately alert. Dean and Bobby would have made more noise.

He heard steps, deliberate, slow steps, signaling that whoever was approaching wasn't trying to sneak up on him. He was still tense, wanting to go for a weapon, but the nearest one was the shotgun on the coffee table.

When Eric came through the from the hall, he didn't know whether to release a breath or suck one in. His brain short-circuited and he ended up half-gasping, half-choking as he stumbled out of his chair and around the desk. Eric watched him, his eyes betraying nothing, causing Sam to stop short of reaching him.

'Eric,' he said, hoping for a reaction.

'Sam.'

'You came back.'

'I was brought back, by your angel.'

'Castiel found you?' Sam asked, surprised.

'Yes, he seemed to suggest I deserve some sort of consideration due to my recent actions.'

'You killed Lilith, you saved me.'

'I did what needed to be done. It was logical, I had the speed needed to kill her. That doesn't change the fact that you should not want me around.' The hunter took a cautious step forward. Eric didn't move.

'Don't go all Twilight on me,' Sam tried to joke. From the look Eric gave him, the vampire didn't get it. Sam smiled. 'Just, don't be stupid,' he explained calmly, feeling more and more elated with every second Eric was there. 'I'm a grown man, all cognitive functions restored. I make my own decisions.' He took another step forward.

'Free will,' Eric murmured with a soft snort at the end. He gazed at Sam for a long moment. 'When you've lived on this earth for a millennium, a single human life passes by in a moment. I suppose I thought it was easier to say goodbye now.'

'I'm not gonna live to old age,' Sam said with absolute certainty. 'I understand if you don't want to stick around.' Eric stepped closer suddenly, taking Sam's face gently in his cold hands, and kissing it chastely, but firmly. Sam tried to kiss back, but Eric pulled away.

'Better to have loved and lost, as they say,' he murmured, before kissing Sam more deeply. They opened their mouths to each other, and Sam moaned at the familiar feeling he had missed so much. He sneaked his arms around Eric's waist and pulled the vamp flush against him. Their making-out session was getting quite heated, so Sam finally pulled away enough to ask:

'Bedroom?'

'Yes,' Eric hissed. Sam ran first, knowing Eric would be annoyed at their slow ascent. Sure enough, Eric started pushing him halfway up the stairs. Sam laughed as they entered the bedroom.

'Impatient?' He didn't get a verbal answer, just more kisses, hard and demanding now. 'Don't rip the shirt,' he warned, just in case Eric got any ideas. He didn't have that many shirts to spare. Eric made a growling noise of annoyance and unbuttoned Sam's shirt with lightening speed instead. He then pulled off the t-shirt underneath and shoved Sam backwards on the bed.

Sam laughed, feeling better than he had in longer than he could remember. Eric wasn't going to waste time waxing poetical about their reunion, however, and set to work on Sam's pants. They were pulled off unceremoniously.

'Hey, work on your own clothes too,' Sam admonished. Eric was quick to comply, crawling over Sam once they were both down to their boxers.

Sam was paler now thanks to his time spent with Eric, but no where near the paleness of the vampire, so they still created a nice contrast. Eric captured his lips in a deep kiss as he slid their bodies togehter.

'Yes, this, just this,' Sam murmured, closing his eyes in contentment as Eric moved on to kissing his jaw and throat. It was only now, with the real Eric, he realized how fucked up the blood had made him for him to not have realized. Eric was nothing like Ruby in bed. He was gentle when needed, playful when appropriate and felt as much pleasure in devouring and in being devoured.

'You can say no of course,' Eric whispered, 'but I would like to taste you, just to make sure.' Sam stopped, his eyes snapping open at the thought, wondering if it should upset him, but no, Eric had tasted him before all that had happened with Ruby, and he would again after.

'You think there's still some left?'

'The level of demon blood may still be higher than your normal level, if it can be called such a thing. I merely wish to ascertain how far detoxed you are.'

'Go ahead.' Sam tilted his head back, letting his eyes fall shut again as Eric kissed his neck, almost as if he was looking for the right spot to bite. He found it soon enough.

He only took a few drops, but it still aroused Sam. Maybe he was a fangbanger, but there were far worse things to be in this world.

'You are almost completely detoxed.'

'Good. It felt longer, but it wasn't as bad.' Eric stiffened abruptly, pulling back and looking into Sam's eyes.

'He didn't tell you,' he concluded.

'Didn't tell me what?' Sam asked. What more secrets could there be?

'I was certain he would, and blame me. I should have realized when you were so eager to have me back, that you don't know.'

'Don't know what?'

Eric pushed himself up and sat on the bed. Sam felt cold, even though it was actually warmer without the vampire on top of him.

'I gave you my blood,' Eric said softly. 'I broke my promise. Dean asked me to, and I did not have the strength to refused. Understand, we were both trying to spare you pain.' Eric didn't look at him, clearly braced for a violent reaction, but Sam found he had none.

Maybe he should be furious, but he didn't want to be furious at Eric. He didn't want to fight, or waste anymore time. The overwhelming anger he so often felt was finally overpowered by a stronger emotion; to treasure the time he had.

'You shouldn't have done that,' he said finally. 'But I don't remember it, so I doubt it really made that much of a difference. I'm not addicted to V, I don't think.'

'It was only a few drops,' Eric told him.

'I think I would have done the same, and I know Dean would have done it, if it had been his choice.' Sam gave Eric a pleading look when the vampire finally turned to look at him, putting on his best puppy-dog look. He held out his hand. 'Come back to bed, now.'

'You're not angry?'

'I'll be angry tomorrow, if I'm feeling up to it.' Eric studied him, as if he couldn't quite believe it. Sam wasn't sure he believed it himself, but with Lilith gone, and the destiny Yellow Eyes had chosen him for finally broken, it was like the anger had let go.

Eric finally crawled back over Sam, who grabbed him and kissed him hard before he'd managed to move into position. They quickly returned to their previous activity, grinding harder and more insistent. Sam stuck his hand down Eric's boxers and smirked when he made Eric hiss.

'I want you,' Eric told him. 'She stole you from me, and I want to take you back.' Sam couldn't help the breathless laugh that escape him. Not because the thought was ridiculous, but because he had been thinking the exact same thing.

'Yes,' he sighed. He heard a ripping sound and looked down. Eric had ripped their boxers to pieces. 'Eric,' he sighed. 'Show off.' His mock protestations were cut off with more kisses and much more pleasurable activities. Eric put all his effort into making Sam feel every nerve along his skin tingling with hot and cold. He was sweating, but every time Eric licked or touched him, it was like someone was gliding ice on his skin. He had come to enjoy the feeling very much.

'Jesus, Eric, fuck me already,' Sam gasped.

'We have all night,' Eric countered.

'Well, if you're still fucking me when the sun comes up, I'm gonna be pissed.'

'And hot,' Eric pointed out before finally giving in to his own strong need.

They might have made the rickety old bed creak obscenely, and they also might have made a few animal sounds, but Sam would always remember that night as a quiet one. It was like his ears were stuffed with cotton, because his other senses were using all of his brain-power.

When they finished, Eric collapsing on top of Sam, it was only the human who needed to pant, but they both did, maybe in solidarity with each other. Eric twisted off, practically snuggling up to Sam's side.

'You're lying on the covers,' he pointed out. The duvet had been pushed during their rough movements, so it was indeed just under Sam. He huffed and pulled it free, draping it over them.

'How long before the sun comes up?' Sam asked.

'Hours,' Eric said.

'We should ask Bobby fix up the panic room a bit. You could sleep there, or we could board up the windows here.'

'No, you need light,' Eric whispered. 'I am more comfortable outside.'

'In the dirt?'

'We will be on the road soon enough, and I have become rather fond of the earth. It's been a long time since I slept so many nights in it.'

'You're weird,' Sam pronounced. He sighed when Eric shifted him so they were properly snuggled up, Sam's on Eric's shoulder. 'Maybe that's why you fit in around here.'

'I'm not sure about your definition of fitting in, but considering the company here, I'll take it as a compliment.' Sam was too tired to deconstruct that sentence, so he fell asleep instead.

XXX

Sam came down in the morning to find Dean making breakfast yet again.

'Hey,' he said. 'I didn't hear you guys get in last night.'

'Yeah, well we heard you,' Dean muttered, turning to put a fresh plate of bacon on the table and giving Sam a look.

'Oh-' Sam felt his face heat up.

'Yeah, oh,' Dean grumbled. 'Bobby's scarred for life.'

'Jesus, you're kidding.' Sam face-palmed.

'Yeah, I am. Old man was too drunk to notice,' Dean grinned.

'You bastard!'

'But seriously, dude, use a gag or something.'

'Dude!' Sam's face had never been that red. Dean chuckled.

'He sticking around then?' he asked as they sat down to eat.

'I think so,' Sam said, feeling his heart swell at the thought. Dean nodded.

'Okay then. He's a good hunter, I'll give him that.'

'You're really okay with it?'

'Life's too short, Sam. Having a world-saving vamp around might just prolong it.'

'Yeah, it might.'

'Just not in the whole, getting turned into one, right?' Dean's question hadn't been asked in a serious manner, but Sam could tell from Dean's look that he was deadly serious.

'I don't want to live forever, Dean, and Eric knows that. We've made our peace with it. He promised me he'd walk away when the time came.'

'Yeah, well, how do you know he keeps his promises?'

'Well, as long as you don't ask him to break it, I suppose we're okay,' Sam short back sharply.

'He told you about that, did he?'

'Yeah, he did, but I'm not mad.'

'You're not?' Dean sounded more shocked than Sam liked, but he knew it was pretty shocking.

'Life's too short, Dean,' he said, smiling. 'But I'm still gonna hold it over you for quite some time, so I expect a lot more of this.' He indicated the breakfast. Dean rolled his eyes and took the last slice of bacon, but stopped mid-air when Sam gave him a look and sighed before giving it over. Sam ate very happily.

In the end he got a bad stomach from eating so much right after his detox, but he still claimed it was worth it.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sonnet 71 quoted in its entirety. Yes, I am a hopeless Shakespeare nerd, and for the sonnets in particular. See the title of my fic Happily Forsworn for more proof of this. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this fic on FF dot net. I hope this slightly edited version is just as good.

**Works inspired by this one:**

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